


Please Honey (just tell me you want me)

by GingerLocks



Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: F/M, Friends to Lovers, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Pop Culture and TV shows!!, getting over the ex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-22
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-04-22 19:58:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 23,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4848485
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GingerLocks/pseuds/GingerLocks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Heartbroken and bitter, Darcy Lewis navigates a life surrounded by superheroes, her ex and his new girlfriend. Good thing she has good friends and a Netflix account to get her though it... a tall handsome Sergeant doesn't hurt either.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. it looks like i don't care (but my heart is bleeding)

**Author's Note:**

> This fic was inspired by the song Aldri by Razika

Song; [Aldri by Razika](http://forevergingeratheart.tumblr.com/tagged/aldri)

*

 **_Eg kan ikkje forholde meg til blikket ditt etter det vi har gjort_ **   
**_Eg innser at allt er skrevet med kritt, det kan lett vaskes bort_ **   
**_Så går du ut av rommet sånn som mange ganger før_ **   
**_ser det ut som eg ikkje bryr meg, men hjertet mitt blør_ **

*

Darcy watched as Steve made his way across the room with two beers; one for him and the other for Sharon. Of course he would start dating a Carter. Class A++  agent, with dark eyes and extensive knowledge in combat and gun-shooting bad-assery, what wasn’t there to love?

She sighed audibly and flipped the chunk of hair she’d been nervously playing with over her shoulder, aware of Bucky Barnes' knowing look as he weaves his way through avengers and friends to the bar she is moping at.

“That’s it, Lewis, give them that _je ne sais quoi_.” the owner of the huge mansion/avengers-clubhouse they were currently in sat down next to her and promptly stole her drink. Where had he come from anyway? Despite initiating this nice house party, she thought he was hidden in his shop.

“Oh fuck off, Stark,” Darcy shot back as she reclaimed her glass half an inch from his mouth. He pouted at her and picked a handful of her bar pretzels instead in retribution. “Didn’t take you for a strawberry margarita sorta guy.”

“Have you _seen_ my girlfriend? Anyway, Bug, don't change the subject.”

“I wasn’t aware that there was even a subject to change.” She flipped the chunk of hair that had yet again made its way around her finger. Tony watched her movements with a raised eyebrow. He reached his hand out for her drink again, only to have it slapped away.

“Really?” he deadpanned. She didn’t deign his comment with an answer. “So you’re not pining for Captain Oblivious over there?”

Darcy merely chugged her drink with as much dignity one could with a sparkly straw in her eye and signaled to the spy-sassin behind the bar for another. 

“Fine, Bug, when you try to get me out of my shop for sleep time, I’ll just not respond until you answer.” He smirked in challenge.

“Fine.” She said, keeping her face neutral.

_“Fine!”_

Tony took her fresh margarita, that Natasha had just handed her, in retaliation and stomped off like the giant three  year old he was. Darcy smiled, Tony was easy to handle as long as you never dragged out your sentences. Giving him a childish power-of-will struggle and not being irked by his pestering was as good as a goodbye.

Natasha rolled her eyes but gave her another margarita with a nod similar to what Pepper Potts gave her that one time she made Tony apologise to Jane. It was nice, knowing that she had the approval of two total badasses.

Halfway through not-pining (nope, not at all) over Captain America’s smoking body, Steve’s gentle soul and his wicked humour, (which were now all being put to use wooing the CIA agent) her half-pint boss walked over to her, seeking out the napkins by her elbow.

 After a minute of filling a napkin with notes Jane unceremoniously handed it to Darcy, snapping her fingers in the not-yet-a-scientist’s face to get her attention.

 “Earth to Darcy. Could you just look over this and tell me if it’s the exact same thing I gave you yesterday or if it’s actually useful to the- Darcy, are you alright?” Jane dropped the excited-scientist air and started projecting her comforting-friend side. It was not a persona Jane projected a lot, since it had nothing to do with science, but once she did she usually went all in. And Darcy loved her for it.

 “Yeah, I’m fine.”

 “Really?” Jane asked doubtfully. Unlike Stark-who was curious about everyone and everything and wanted to be all up in it, no matter what it was- Jane rarely asked about personal matters unless she really cared, which was why Darcy answered Jane whenever she asked, and blatantly ignored Tony whenever he did.

 “You remember a few weeks ago when I came into the lab with, like, the best mood ever?”

 “Yeah, of course, you’d had your brains fucked out and were meeting up with the guy later that night.” Jane smiled, “you wouldn’t shut up about it for a week. I almost had that ‘ _I am Dateable-Darcy’_ shirt you wanted made for you.”

 Darcy snorted at her past self’s antics and naivety. _Could she claim to be a separate entity of her ‘past self’ if that ‘past self’ was only existing a few weeks ago? Hell yeah she could!_

 _"_ Good thing you didn’t, turns out I was not as dateable as I thought.” She grumbled, trying her hardest not to let her eyes flick over to the corner.

 “What happened?” Jane placed a comforting hand on Darcy’s arm.

 Darcy shot a look over at the spy-sassin, but Natasha was busy making the ex-asset-sassin some ridiculous drinks to introduce him to the 21st century. They were currently discussing flavoured vodka and how they both hated it and though Darcy knew they were both probably listening, she honestly didn’t care anymore; it was not as if they’d tell Stark.

 “Well, we met in DC when you held that speech there about something-or-other-”

“Theories in practical appli-”

“Yeah, yeah, I know what it was about, I type your notes, fix your power points, anyway. We went to this gallery opening and then we bailed out of there and went for a sort of exploradora-journey and ended up at his place. We fucked like rabbits over the weekend and when I left for home the next Monday we agreed to meet up here for dinner and a movie.”

“And, what? He stood you up?”

“Nah” Darcy swallowed and chanced another look at Steve and his ‘neighbour’. ”He dated me for over two weeks, two wonderful, magical weeks and then I realised he didn’t really date _me_ , per say.”

“I don’t follow…”

“He didn’t date me because he liked me and wanted to be serious.” Darcy rolled her eyes, thinking back on it now she should have guessed, really. “He dated me because I was easy-” she held up a hand to stop Jane’s scoffing. “Hey now, that’s not what I meant. I just meant that we were easy. Everything came so easy and, you know me, I’m a bit of a people pleaser.”

“Not really.”

“Well, not to your face. But I was to his.”

“What?”

“I care about you, I care about you eating well, I love spoiling you and I love how you always value my input when I have nothing to contribute, that’s why I always cook for you, and get you those horrible pop-tarts, or get you coffee from that shop far away because you mentioned that you like them.”

“You do that? Oh Darcy-”

“And that right there, the-” Darcy gestured to Jane’s teary eyes, “- _emotion_! Is why I never told you. I like to please you, but I like to do it with attitude, yah feel?” _Please don’t cry, Jane! I have a reputation to uphold!_

“Sure.” Jane sniffed.

“No more wet stuff! Anyway, I did these things for him, but without the attitude but I really liked him and the sex was amazing, so when I confronted him about the fact that he probably projected another person onto me when he tried using jokes and expressions that I had never been in on, we had this awkward fight and then he said it was best if we just remained friends and I haven’t been able to look him in the eyes after that,” Darcy frowned at the corner where Sharon laughed at something Steve had just said.

“Not that he really notices that part anyway as he hasn’t acknowledged me since then, and he is too busy with perfect Sha-” Jane gasped, Darcy slapped her hand over her mouth and there was a second of tense silence before the ex-assins resumed their conversation about the horrors of jello-shots. She’d have thought that those two would have been more subtle than that. She’d have to try and get a hold of Fury and rant about S.H.I.E.L.D’s spy training. To Natasha's defense though, it had been Barnes who'd been the least subtle. What? As if Steve hadn't told him this already?

 _Shit_ , now everybody definitely knows who she’s talking about, especially with all the _not_ -pining she’s been doing all night...

And as if she hadn’t already demolished the secrecy on her own, Jane decided to set the ruins on fire with a way-too-loud, not-really a whisper. “ _STEVE!_ The guy, you, he, _you fucked Captain America!?”_

“Keep your voice down, _Miss_ Foster!” Darcy hissed back, doing her best impression of being possessed-by-satan/Smeagol. It was a good impression, she'd spent most her life on it. 

The only good thing about their trip to Tromsø was when one of the Norwegian students had told Jane the Norwegian word for freak was _misfoster_ and then stumbled over her words. The student had made it worse when she guaranteed she didn’t think _Doctor_ Foster was actually a _misfoster_. Darcy had laughed her ass off and Jane had frowned for the rest of the day, fretting over whether the Swedish had the same word and whether it affected her chance of a Nobel Prize. As it turns out, it didn’t.

But Jane just kept staring at Darcy in shock with her mouth gaping wide, before her brow was set in anger and her mouth audibly snapped shut. Oh no. That’s the face she wore in London right before slapping Thor, (and Darcy had it on good authority that she’d also had the same expression before slapping Loki.)

“I will sock that bastard in his patriotic jaw for how he treated you!” she swore as she jumped off the barstool, throwing her notes in Darcy’s  glass.

“Jane, _no_!” Darcy half-shouted and fished the notes out before the ink could bleed all over before hauling ass after Jane, taking her  by the arm to divert her stalk towards happy couple in the corner.

“-and to think, dangling that woman in front of you like this, does he not care? At all? He will be demoted from Sweet-Steve to _Shit_ -Steve right the fuck now. Oh yes, I’m gonna-”

Darcy rolled her eyes at Jane’s mutterings, oddly touched by her protective friend as she made the stalk into a loop and led her to the exit.

“Just gonna check over some notes,” she waved the slightly damp napkins in Tony’s face when he tried to intercept them and hurried them down to the labs; A sanctuary that was not only Steve-free but where Pepper had auto-locked the doors for Tony for the rest of the night.

*

_**Eg letar igjennom byens gatar** _

_**Det er mørkt det er kaldt det e dette eg hatar** _   
_**Og eg finner deg ikkje der du pleier å være** _   
_**Eg må gi opp eg e nødt til å lære** _

*

The Avengers had mercifully been called out a few days after Darcy had  told Jane about her bleeding heart, giving Jane a week to cool off and another to relish in Thor’s return after the team no longer needed him to fight.

Darcy found solace in work. As an assistant, glorified coffeemaker and personal chef to the scientist who kept long hours, there was plenty to do, she even got some paper-pushing jobs here and there from the agents living on their base. Maria Hill even sought her out and handed her some notes that she needed her to look over, summarize and present to one of her SHIELD cells still in DC, giving Darcy the perfect getaway from spending a weekend without Jane and work.

 The meeting had gone well; Darcy realised it was more of a formality and for Hill to pass on documents to a few agents in particular. Darcy was not stupid, she might not be a spy, but she did realize when her purse was heavier after being in the vicinity of Hill and lighter after some lady bumped into her around the corner from the SHIELD front-office.

All in all, she couldn’t complain as she had two whole days to explore DC again without being occupied with the Hot-and-Sensitive National Icon. She set out after the meeting (more like handshake, handover, thank you, byebyenow,) with a whole agenda drawn up of which museums to go to, what exhibits to see, getting a selfie in front of the white house, the usual.

She didn’t get farther than the Smithsonian and the stupid Captain America exhibit before she realised just how pathetic she was. Who goes to an exhibit of their ex-boyfriend all his dead friends? Well, all dead but one, anyway.

She took a turn, listening in on guided groups, smiling to herself as she matched up some of Steve’s stories to pictures and people. She also had fun looking at James Buchanan Barnes in his fashion-forwards (fashion backwards?) blue uniform, and the unusual short hair. What a cutie he'd been with his hipster haircut.

She continued around the whole Smithsonian and reminded herself to see that last _Night at the Museum_ movie when she got home.

After a long day and tired feet she had resolved to get a good dinner. She made her way to the diner Steve had taken her to, ordering burger and fries as she scrolled through her phone (the diner had free wifi, she really was in heaven.) When the food was placed in front of her,she put away her phone with a happy sound (more like a moan, really); it really did smell delicious. She remembered how Steve had smiled at her when they’d eaten here the last time. He’d said how good it was to see a woman eat for once, and how he wished he could have treated girls to this in his youth.

She stilled mid ketchup-pouring. Maybe he dumped her because she was curvy? Could Captain America be shallow enough to break up with her because he thought he she was fat? She eyed the huge portion that she had every intention of consuming, frowning in thought.

Nah.

Steve was good people (mostly), he wouldn’t do that. She frowned and shook out the last splat of ketchup before she dug in.

And if that was the case, then Steve did not deserve her. She thought about the exhibit and realised Peggy Carter had been curvy as well, not quite as curvy or short, but still very similar to herself, and that thought both comforted and spooked her a little as she put her side of onion rings on top of her burger.

*

 **_Aldri aldri aldri blir du min_ **   
**_Aldri aldri aldri blir du min_ **   
**_Eg e nødt til å forstå at mellom oss e det slutt_ **   
**_Ta jakken min og gå, finne meg en annen gutt_ **

*

Two weeks of being back from DC marked a month after first seeing Sharon and Steve together at breakfast, sex hair included. Yeah, she’d been suffocated with the happiness in the room, and the sweetness between them was like a sucker punch to the gut, but she handled it. She really didn’t want any run-ins with Steve at all that day, not after visiting DC and the places they’d gone together. She found herself wandering around Brooklyn on her own, and ended up  outside the Chinese place Steve loved.

Because, of course she was _that_ pathetic, she went inside and -just to assure herself that she was indeed a masochist- ordered the same amount she would have if Steve was with her.

Why did she do this to herself? She wondered as she looked at the total, dug out her wallet and regretted everything. They’d only been together for almost three weeks, hell she had not talked to him in almost twice that time, but he was always there; talking to Tony while she was holding stuff for him; using the kitchen when she was cooking for Jane and Banner; watching tv shows that she had got him hooked on with Barnes, taking the fun away from her as she had to go with her 2nd choices when she introduced the ex-asset-sassin to pop-culture.

And if that was not enough, his shield and merchandise were all over! His face was on the news all the time and he had a whole week dedicated to his life on the history channel. This week had been ruined for her.

So as she sat there, pathetically (starting to become a theme with her) waiting for her order and stewing in her own heartache and general pathetic-ness, she didn’t expect to see Steve’s motorbike pull up with a passenger on the back.

“For fuck’s sake” she grumbled. Her heart soared when the passenger was James Barnes, _not_ Sharon Carter, and then the traitorous organ fell when it was Barnes that came in, and _not_ Steve as the latter pulled out his phone and stayed outside.

Barnes nodded to her as he spotted her while doing his assessment of the restaurant; assassin eyes taking in everything. She knew it was hopeless to hide- not that there were any plants to hide behind for that matter- she had learned to appreciate the plants that had suddenly appeared all over after Thor came back.

They had ordered ahead so Barnes merely paid and the nice lady behind the counter disappeared into the kitchen to get the takeout bag. To Darcy’s complete and utter embarrassment the other lady who worked there came out of the kitchen at the same time and said loudly “Dalcey?”

She flushed crimson and walked up to get her jumbo sized bag (she was one spring roll away from getting two bags, for sure) before Barnes could see exactly how pathetic she was being, but being the gentleman he was (stupid 40’s mannerism) he had taken the bag for her and handed it to her over the tall counter, raising his eyebrow slightly in question. Darcy was tempted to tell him that she was on a dinner run for the lab staff working late, but seeing as Tony was in California and Bruce had gone to Culver the lie could easily be blown when Jane stayed most of the night with Thor and the rest of them.

Instead, she squared her shoulders and raised her chin, meeting his eyes defiantly, and snatching the bag.

 “Yes, there is way more food in here than I could possibly hope to eat on my own, yes I am pathetic and nostalgic and ordered for me and a serum-enhanced other, and if this is not pathetic enough I am also stopping by the 7/11 on the corner for the biggest chocolate milk I can find and a pint of Ben and Jerry’s. But for now, I will just wait here until you and your buddy disappear into the sunset on your shiny-shiny motorcycle.”

Barnes was silent, then the corner of his lip twitched slightly and she could see the charming guy the history channel had been raving about (fine, yes, she actually watched some of them. Masochist, remember?) before he grabbed his own bags and thanked the lady behind the counter.

“I’ll be right back.” he smiled over his shoulder as he left.

 _Oh God no._ Please do not play matchmaker or get Steve in here. She prayed to all higher forces (other than Thor, because she did not want him to know about this… and Odin because he called Jane a goat.)

To her surprise though, Barnes just handed over the bags to Steve, motioned to the 7/11 and waved him off reassuringly. Steve looked bewildered, but seemed happy to see Barnes take initiative and obviously had other plans as he hurried off. Though not before Barnes had fastened his helmet on him, a discussion she had overheard them have in the hallway when she behind one of the huge plants there last week.

“There, sorry,” Barnes said when he re-entered, taking her bag from her, “you said you had enough leftover to feed a serum-enhanced other, I believe I qualify.” He smiled. She gaped at him.

“I also believe you said something about chocolate milk and a couple of fellas?” He extended his metal arm (concealed under his leather biker jacket and glove, but she knew which one it was) and she smiled, slowly wrapping her arm around his.

“Oh, I’ll introduce you to Ben and Jerry, alright.”

And they spent the night eating obscene amounts of Chinese food on her gym towel (unused, she mostly lugged around that bag for show), eating by the illuminated fountain in the park by her building, and eating Ben and Jerry’s as they watched sense8 on her Netflix. It was the one show neither of them had seen before, but she had read reviews so she knew it was gonna be good, and Barnes didn’t blush like Steve did during sex scenes, which was a plus. Spending time with Barnes made that night the longest time she hadn’t spent thinking about Steve.

They had two episodes left when the emotional strain of the week lulled her to sleep, head on the most cushy armrest of her couch, and feet on Barnes’ lap.

The next morning she woke up alone with her blankets tucked around her, and her netflix telling her that he’d seen the last two episodes while she was asleep.

She huffed and dug out the few leftovers from last night, sending a text off to Barnes while she waited on the microwave.

She got an answer as she sat down in front of her TV again with her food and a coffee, reading the first few words as she went to unlock it:

_‘You’ll never guess what Wolfgang…”_

“Oh, no. Oh, no, no, no, no.” She threw her phone away and started loading the 11th episode, “I’m not gonna read your spoiler text, nope. Not gonna happen.”

*

 


	2. take a chance now (run your hand over my hair)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy gets a new BFF, Tony has something against people sleeping on his couches, and Steve awkwardly tries to befriend his ex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again; Thank You, Megan, for you beta help!

*****

_**Eg klarer aldri å glemme deg helt** _   
_**At det ikkje blir oss det e ikkje reelt** _   
_**Bare tenk på alt det fine, tenk på minnene våre** _   
_**det e plass til natten, våge nå, og stryk meg over håret** _

_*****_

 

After that night, whenever Barnes saw her in the hallway he’d engage her in conversation, providing that Steve wasn’t there. He was easy to talk to; slightly on the right side of flirty, but in the light manner that she appreciated. Whenever she explained something to him, he took it to heart, he even took initiative to make his own jokes based on current events. Like when, after a combat session, Steve walked around the common kitchen with his hair in disarray, and Bucky asked what Darcy what she thought about Steve supporting Trump’s hair style choices. She’d almost snorted her cheerios out her nose.

And if Steve was there, Barnes would catch her eye while she slunk off to a hiding space and mime ' _I see you, villain'_ to her behind Steve’s back. She’d almost walked into the plant she was ducking behind in her haste to hide while miming a _'villain-moustache_ ' back at him.

And this new friendship made her move into the mansion better. After continuously crashing on one of the many couches around the labs and workshops after copious amounts of paperwork, coffee, and science benders, Tony had thrown her a key and informed her that  FRIDAY was going to wake her any time she had a resting heart rate next to a couch. He was not lying.

Thor and Jane helped her move; Jane helped pack her stuff into boxes, and Thor carried them into the moving truck.  It was nice and they made a day of it; eating pancakes and reminiscing about the tiny flat Mrs. Foster had in London where they’d stayed for a few weeks after the Aether incident and Alien Invasion.2. It was nice. And the move didn’t seem as sudden, and she now had more money to do more stuff with Thor and Barnes, more trips to the city and shit ordered online.

But she still had a 90% greater chance of meeting Steve now that they lived in the same part of the same mansion. Which, well, sucked.

Barnes made it a bit easier, the unofficial lessons she had set up for him often moved into the city for field trips, especially now that she had more money to spend, mostly after closing or in disguise, since Barnes wanted to keep his skills up during his down time too. Sometimes with Thor and Jane, or just Thor while Jane was busy. But mostly it was just her and the crazy smooth sass-sassin, especially since he was not cleared for missions against HYDRA until they found out what triggers he might have. But Darcy made the best of it.

They had both enjoyed sense8  had started watching Orphan Black, only 2 or 3 episodes a week and sometimes interrupted by weekends or Avengers avenging without him, where they’d marathon ANTM or Keeping up with the Kardashians, which Darcy claimed was important pop culture, and until RuPauls Dragrace, Barnes seemed to buy into this.

She was finally beginning to find her footing again, enough that whenever she saw Steve with Barnes in the hallway she’d say “Hi!” overly enthusiastic and keep walking, or make a face at Barnes before hurrying off. She said “Hi,” to Steve too, but still didn’t look him in the eyes.

It was still a surprise when, almost three months after the chinese food meeting, Steve took the initiative to say “hey” to her.

And a week later he made polite conversation with her as she was cooking for Jane and Thor. And again two days after that as Darcy was making tacos with Barnes, he actually stayed in the kitchen to help them and roll his eyes at Barnes’ show with the knives and vegetables. And after, when she felt it was too awkward to send him away, especially when they had enough food to fill _Thor_ three times over, he had eaten with them.

Barnes had been a bit off that evening, and she smiled tentatively at him, to assure him that really it was okay. After she finished her second helping of guacamole with taco meat sprinkled on top, he relaxed, confident that neither she nor Steve would fuck this up. She got it, if her two best friends used to date, then she would want them to get along all right.

Because that was what they were now, she realised, her eyes widening in wonder at Barnes. They were best friends. After a minute of gaping at Bucky with her taco half an inch from her mouth he gave her a weird look, asking what the hell she was looking at and she felt herself smile slowly at him, giving him the 60W smile she usually reserved to when he showed up with ice cream or pizza.

She then looked down, content with this new fixed point in her life as she refocused on her taco. When she looked back up again she could swear Bucky was a few shades darker on his cheeks. _Was he blushing?_ She glanced over to Steve, to check if he noticed, but Steve was busy either low-key texting someone ( _cough, Sharon, cough_ ) or smiling dumbly at his crotch. She looked back at Bucky but he cleared his throat and all traces of his maybe-blush was gone. _Had she imagined it?_

Steve put the phone away with a sheepish smile.

“Sorry, I know you have a ‘ _no phones while eating_ ’ rule” he winced apologetically.

She blinked, shocked. That rule was made when she realized she barely managed to finish her lunch because she was too busy chatting or texting or reading her e-book, she had made a sign on a post it and Jane framed it and hung it over her table. She was surprised that Steve even remembered.

“That’s alright, it’s mostly for myself though, no worries” she assured him, Steve smiled and Bucky raised his eyebrows in disbelief; Darcy had confiscated his phone the third time he had broken the rule.

She narrowed her eyes at him. He rolled his eyes at her. Steve cleared his throat.

“Thank you so much for dinner, Darcy,” he said, standing and taking his plate to the sink.

“Punk, I did all the chopping. That’s like 60% of the work!” grumbled Bucky as he gathered his and Darcy’s plates to wash

“Don’t mind Barnes, you know what he’s like” Darcy laughed and gathered the tray of toppings and salad while Bucky threw the drying rag to Steve.

“A jerk?” Steve smiled to her, a smile he used to give her a lot, whenever he was sassy or trolling… So basically the whole time they were dating. It was the first time in months that this smile was directed to her and not someone else.

Bucky rolled his eyes and threw a clean plate at Steve, who caught it with ease and started drying it. Darcy laughed at their antics as Bucky kept throwing plates higher and faster, making a game out of it.

All in all it was a great afternoon. Which was repeated the next time she introduced Bucky to her student cuisine. And a movie night with Thor and Jane to see Casablanca that was crashed by Bucky (to save her from third wheeling) and Steve with Sharon (to see Casablanca).

Still, She felt the hope flare in her chest after each and every one of these interactions with Steve, even though it was dampened by Sharon’s presence that last time.

*

 **_Du er deilig og rar i en fin blanding_ **   
**_Hvis eg ikkje får deg må eg gå i behandling_ **   
**_Eg vil ha deg om natten, eg vil ha deg om dagen_ **   
**_Eg vil være kjæresten din i denne sangen._ **   
  


*

Another month passed. Darcy spent it mostly in the lab with the Scientists Three or in her living room with Bucky, eating the take out he wanted to try as she worked through the paperwork Maria Hill had started leaving on her desk. Darcy had been doing most of Jane's paperwork for years, so the new interns and assistants had a great system she built for them, and after Hill found out how good she was at canvasing, cataloguing and remembering the general gists of documents; stranger and stranger things ended in her inbox.

"What are you working on?" Bucky asked her as he sat down next to her on her couch, lifting her foot to make space for himself and putting it on his lap when she refused to remove it.

"Filling out paperwork related to fake Hulk sightings and lawsuits." She answered absentmindedly as she punched in the dates for the claim she was working on, matching it up to a time when Bruce was sitting on her favourite nap-couch, drinking soup. Another easy win.

"I did not know SHIELD _had_ paperwork for that."

"They didn't, they do now." She smiled at him as her system worked as well as she thought it would and sat up the automatic checks and tags on her laptop. "They had hundreds of lawsuits and complaints with photoshopped pictured and other evidence," she rolled her eyes as she threw the thick folder at him. He leafed through it as she started reviewing the flagged works.

"This is the worst photoshop work I have ever seen." Bucky laughed and held up a picture of a green cartoon-ish Hulk smashing a garage door. "The guy probably just drank too much and drove into it, see the car in the background has dents consistent with those on the door."

"Look at you, Sherlock," she smiled and brought her screen around for him to see. "Some of them are better, but there is mostly just almost 200 complaints that have no case. But Hill didn't want to use one of her precious few junior agents to leaf through them, and since I'm the one in charge of his lab I got these yesterday." She waved to the other big folders stacked next to her armrest.

Bucky frowned, "Maria isn't even your boss, and you already work too much. We haven't been out of this prison for almost three weeks and you are taking on extra work?"

Darcy rolled her eyes, "quit your whining, Barnes, I like this work, makes me feel a little more needed around here-"

"You are needed!" He interrupted her, she patted his arm and turned her face back to her screen to hide the pleased blush. She liked feeling needed, it made her feel like an important part of something bigger.

"You're sweet, don't worry. I am sorting these quite easily by sending out disclaimers to every claim where we have evidence of Banner's presence elsewhere. Only three claims didn't get filtered away, so I'll be done with this before you get back with the sushi you promised you would pick up." She looked up, checking his face to see if he'd forgotten. But seeing as he didn't look sheepish or avoid her eyes, she knew she'd be getting some tempura maki and salmon sashimi for dinner tonight.

But she wondered why he looked at her with such a fond smile, sure; she loved fried shrimp in rice and seaweed, but demanding it for dinner for the third time this week did not merit a fond grin... or that admiration thing he was doing. She scowled at him and he schooled his features in a neutral expression, corners of his lips barely tugging up in his effort not to laugh.

"I shall take my leave, and bring your fishy-food back upon my return." He stood and bowed in a good imitation of Thor, and she laughed. "Yeah, yeah, bring extra ginger, I'll be done soon."

He smirked and put his glove on and rolled down the sleeves of his henley. leave his metal arm bare when he came over, which he did about every single day, but when they were around other people he would keep covered. She took note, knowing he trusted her enough to 'go bare' around her, and she appreciated it, glad she could be there for him as he came more into himself and accepted his arm. She looked at him for a second chewing her lip thoughtfully.

"Bucky?" He looked up from the complicated fastening of his glove. "Hill expects me to use the whole weekend on this, so if you don't tattle, I could take the weekend off. Finally take you clubbing, like I promised. You wanna do that?" She watched him, wondering how he'd react, as the clubbing plan had mostly been a joke, turned into a 'sometime' plan.

He smiled back at her, "you gonna take me dancin', Doll?"

"Yeah, not now though!" she protested as he took a step towards her, pointing at her laptop in protest. "How about tomorrow? I still want my fishy-food and a couple of episodes of Bones tonight."

"Alright, tomorrow then." He winked and drew one of her knit hats over his hair before he left her rooms.

She mock-saluted him and returned to her screen once again, frowning as she brought up the file flagged with 'General Ross'. She might have to work a bit longer tonight than she'd planned...

The next day she woke up way after noon and spent most of her day lazing around on her couch, reading up on the Government's proposals that were hinted to in the only complaint she didn't manage to disprove. After sending the information back to Hill, she'd realised just how close they were getting to actualizing the bill that would make it mandatory to register on the gifted index. She was apparently not the only one with this on her mind, having ranted on about it to Bucky, who'd talked to Steve after the sushi and Bones, and came back to her apartment to complain about Steve's reaction.

Steve and Sharon had not agreed on what actions were the best choice, and Darcy didn't quite believe Bucky when he told her how bad the fight was, until a loud argument broke out in the kitchen. They were apparently on the same side, but not agreeing on what to do about it, and were making it personal.

Darcy made herself scarce, deciding to leave the coffee she had been waiting for when the shouting started, and spent the better part of the afternoon running interventions in the hallway outside to assure Steve and Sharon had peace and quiet to fight and shout. 

The shouting stopped a little while before Bucky came to get her, but Darcy was distracted with eavesdropping, and the quiet murmuring was impossible to hear.

“Do _you_ hear them?” she asked him instead of acknowledging that she was late for their night out.

Bucky stilled and listened for a second, “yeah.”

“What are they saying? Are they still fighting?” She asked him. The last she had heard was Sharon asking why he was with her after Steve had basically called her ignorant and high maintenance, though not in those words, and knowing Steve, probably not on purpose.

He frowned, she pursed her lips and raised her eyebrows, he narrowed his eyes, she narrowed hers. He sighed.

“They’re talking about breaking up.” he murmured on the exhale.

“What?!” Darcy asked, louder than she should have as Sharon stormed out of the room and straight into her a moment later.

“I’m so sorry, Darcy, didn’t expect anyone to be here” she threw over her shoulder as she as good as ran to the end of the hallway.

Sharon had never been mean or petty toward Darcy. As far as she knew, Sharon didn’t know she was the last person to sleep with Steve before her, at least she never behaved like those high school girls who freaked if you asked their boyfriends about homework. So Darcy was torn. She wanted Steve to be single, because  _she_ wanted to date him, but single was the better alternative than him dating Sharon. She wasn’t blind; she could still see that they made each other happy, so she wouldn’t interfere. She didn’t wish for Sharon’s heart to break... Maybe one bad hair day, or seeing mascara traces under her eyes after a long hard day, but those wishes were only because she felt so inferior and unworthy next to Competent-Carter.

But if they did break up, maybe she still had a shot, albeit a small one. How long time would it take for Steve to get over this break up? It took him less than a week to get over theirs, but he’d dated Sharon much longer, and introduced her to all his friends and-

“Earth to Darcy!” Bucky snapped his fingers in front of her face as his cold metal hand touched her warm arm.

“Sorry! Spaced out a little there…”

“We had plans…?” Bucky asked her, hesitant, as if fearing she had forgotten about them or decided to cancel.

“Yes, of course,” she ran a hand through her hair and grimaced as her fingers and rings were stuck at the end of it. “Just gotta, fix this.” She tried yanking them through, and sighed in defeat and tried to untangle them instead. Bucky laughed and helped her, holding her hand still and quickly unraveling her hair from it.

“Is there _anything_ you’re not good at?” Darcy complained as he brushed the tangle over her shoulder and squeezed her hand before letting go.

“Just had a lot of practice getting my own hair out of these damned plates,” he wiggled his fingers on his metal hand, opening his glove to show her how they moved. She was mesmerized, once again, by the artwork that was his arm, and reached out to get closer, holding it between her hands as she bent and twisted everything to see how it worked.

She had never been good at sitting still. From she was little she had always needed to multitask, be it drawing with her crayons as she watched Spongebob or play candy crush as she watched a movie. The only time she was not fiddling with something in her hands was when she was reading a book. Bucky told her how unnatural it was to see her so still when he came by with pizza last week and she was mid Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban re-re-re-re-read.

The first time she had played with Bucky’s hand was when he had laid it over hers about two months ago, as she was picking at her nails and the skin around it and if she picked anymore she would start bleeding and complain about the sting for the next few days. Nothing felt more natural than picking at his indestructible fingers instead.

Her hands had worked their way to the rolled up sleeves of his henley shirt, rotating his arm at the elbow, and she made to push the sleeves up further when her hair fell back over her shoulder and into her face. She blew at it, annoyed, and was just about to give up and push it away when Bucky’s right hand did it for her. Pushing it behind her ear and over her shoulder, letting his hand linger on the top of her arm as she looked up at him. He smiled at her, and she smiled her thanks before she finally got the sleeve over his elbow and bent his arm to find out exactly how those plates worked.

The door to the common area burst open, frightening her and she froze, looking towards the noise where Steve was angrily frowning at the two of them.

Darcy looked at Bucky, first now realising how close they were standing, her hands on his bicep and wrist, arm pulled towards her as if to make him embrace her and his hand on her shoulder, playing with her hair. She could only imagine what this scene looked like to Steve, eyes widening she took a step back and dropped his arm, her arms crossing over her stomach.

Steve still looked mad. Did he really think there was something going on between her and Bucky? Sure they spent a lot of time together and their position had looked more intimate than it was, but they were just friends, any idiot with two eyes could see that. Right? Hell, even Fury could see that with only one. Was it possible that Steve was _jealous_? That thought fueled her hope, which was already pretty stoked after Bucky told her about the breaking up thing.

“What are you two doing out here?” he demanded, in a way that Darcy totally judged as jealous.

She opened her mouth and gestured to the frowning Bucky’s arm, wanting to explain that Steve had nothing to be jealous about, but at the same time liking this jealousy too much to make it go away. She was saved from her stuttering by Steve bulldozing on.

“Were you listening in to our whole conversation?”  he asked them, crossing his arms over his chest. Ahh, the Captain’s disappointed voice.

“No-” Darcy lied. Well, technically, it wasn’t a lie. She had not listened to their whole conversation. Only the shouted part… And Bucky had only heard the quiet part. Bucky took half a step towards her, turning to face Steve. It looked natural, like he wanted to give him his full attention, but Darcy narrowed her eyes as she saw how discreetly he shielded her from view.  

“Calm down, punk, Darcy’s been out here sending nosey people away. You should have heard Tony sulk about it in his shop.”

Steve deflated a bit, some of the righteous fury leaving him and she stepped up to be beside Bucky, instead of behind him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to bite your head off. I’m just sick and tired of _spies_ everywhere all the time” Steve ran a hand through his hair, having more success (and shorter hair) than Darcy, he looked gorgeous as he scratched the back of his neck.

“It’s fine-” Darcy assured him, giving him a reassuring and honest smile, trying to project ‘ _not-a-spy_ ’ without overdoing it.

“No it's not,” said Bucky, crossing his arms as he glared at his best friend. Ignoring Darcy’s protests and Steve’s apologetic expression he continued “I get that you had a fight with Blond-Carter, but that doesn’t mean you get to lash out on others, especially not Darcy after she helped get Tony and Thor off your case about it.”

“He didn’t know that!” Darcy defended Steve at the same time Steve said “How should I have known that?”

“You know Darcy!” Bucky exclaimed, “you know she’s kind and caring and about the furthest thing in this place from a spy. Or, at least you _used_ to know this.”

Darcy gaped at Bucky, half glad that he was talking her up to Steve, half mad that he was making such a big deal out of this and 100% surprised by his fierce protective speech with a side of passive aggressive reference to their short relationship.

She hadn’t realised just what being BFFs with James Buchanan Barnes meant until now.

Steve seemed just as shocked, but he swallowed an angry retort and nodded “You’re right. I’m sorry, Darcy” he looked her in the eyes, and his ears grew pink before he looked away and made eye contact with Bucky. “I will restrain myself the next time, should there be one.”

“Good.” Bucky bit back.

Darcy looked between them, feeling the tension build up. _What the fuck, Bucky?_ Steve just fought with his girlfriend (ex-girlfriend?) and now you pick another fight with him within the same hour? Not cool. She’d talk to him about this later.

Bucky looked about ready for another comment, she could see from his face that it would be full of sass and 1940’s burn, so she interrupted him.

“Bucky, we gotta go, we’re already late” she said, with a meaningful look at him, her hand wrapped around his arm. _Do not fuck with me now, leave Steve alone and let's blow off some steam out on the town tonight._

Bucky deflated and tucked her hand on the inside of his elbow as he walked away. Hanging on his arm, Darcy cast a quick look at the miserable looking Steve, mouthing ‘ _sorry_ ’ to him when they reached the elevator, Bucky paused and turned to Steve again.

“Maybe next time you have a fight that you don’t want anyone to overhear, don’t shout in the common areas” he said before the doors shut behind them and the elevator took them up to the top floor where the bedrooms were located.

“What the fuck, Barnes?” she asked as he marched her to her door.

He grunted as she crossed her arms, waiting for an explanation. He rolled his eyes.

“For someone who doesn't like people picking on the little guy, he sure has a knack for picking on the smallest person in the room. Someone had to knock him down a peg.”

She raised her eyebrow as she opened her door, “he just fought with Sharon, so you gave him another relationship to worry about before he'd even had a night’s sleep? Best friends don’t do that.”

“Best friends stick up for each other.” Bucky corrected her. “And best friends call each other out when they think you’re being an asshole. Like I did with Steve, and like you’re doing now.” His frown loosened up and he smiled faintly. “Because no matter how much bullshit and berating they still have each others back, and they know they’ll never leave.” He smirked and shrugged in a ‘what-can-yah-do’ sort of way, as if to illustrate that he wasn’t mad at her for yelling at him. She didn’t know whether to laugh or groan and did some weird mixture of the two, making Bucky laugh again.

“ETD; 45 minutes, get your hair fixed, Doll, and we’ll take the town by storm.”

He winked, walked down the hall and around the corner to his own room.

“Jerk.” She muttered as she closed her door. She plugged her phone into her speakers and scrolled through it till she came to her chick-flick list. If she had only 45 minutes to fix her hair, makeup, dress and accessorize, she was going to need the power of montage-music to get her through it.

 

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow I'm really happy with all the feedback I've gotten from you guys! Thank you so much.  
> I like reading your theories and arguments about Shit-Steve! I have planned out exactly how hes gonna be "dealt with" no worries ;) Though you got a little teaser for that in this chapter with Bucky protecting his girl :D  
> I have about two chapters left, and only one is complete and none are beta'd yet, but I'll try to update again during the week!


	3. take my jacket and go (find myself another boy)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy takes Bucky out clubbing. Turns out some super-soldiers CAN get drunk...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the kudos and reviews you've all left! I love reading the many ways you wanna make Shit-Steve suffer!

 

**_*_ **

**_Aldri, aldri, aldri blir du min_ **  
**_Aldri, aldri, aldri blir du min_**  
**_Eg e nødt til å forstå at mellom oss e det slutt  
_ _ta jakken min og gå, finne meg en annen gutt_**

*

They had settled for a place mostly filled with students. The intoxicated youth were too busy grinding on each other to give a fuck about them, and with all the skin others were displaying  around her, Darcy could pull off a booby top without being self conscious. The music might be too loud, but it was modern and it was not as if they were planning on talking too much either. At least Darcy wasn’t; she had her dancing heels on, the ones with block heels and comfy soles.

“Next time we go dancing, it's my choice and I want swing dancing, not this modern spectacle.” Bucky yelled to her ear as she pulled him through the dance floor to the coatroom in the back.

“Tough nuggets, I’m teaching you twerking tonight.” She said over her shoulder, knowing his hearing was good enough. She threw off her jacket and put her phone in her pocket, she’d opted for dark, high waisted, skinny jeans and a sequin top, perfect for jumping around in without having to worry about showing her underwear. Plus, having pockets meant having her phone, some money and a condom. Nothing sucked more than having to call your ride from your almost-one-night-stand’s phone after lack of protection stopped the sex from happening.

It was not as if she went out looking for sex, but it was always good to be prepared. She might have wanted to go clubbing to find herself a rebound guy, but after the Sharon/Steve fight, she put those plans on hold. Also, she was here for Bucky. She'd be damned if she left with someone before she hooked him up with somebody else first. 

Bucky was dressed in all black; trousers and a  henley were his go-to clothes and tonight was no exception, except he had rolled down his sleeves and he had his glove on his left hand. Though if it weren’t for the fact that he’d slicked his hair back in a low man-bun, instead of leaving it in his usual mess, she’d accuse him of not getting dressed up for this. He had shaved as well, even though he usually waited until he had more stubble than he had this afternoon before shaving. He was a man though, and sadly didn't get to experience the hectic pampering seance she did before going out.

“Looking nice there, Bucky.” She rolled her eyes as she got her coat check before leaving him for the bar, ordering from the shot menu and finding a small table by the toilets.

“What’s all this?” Bucky asked when he joined her, looking at the 15 small glasses of various colours that the waitress dropped off.

“Shots,” she smiled as she picked up two tequila shots and handed one to him.

“No shit,” he raised his eyebrows, leaning in and putting his thumb onto her tragus, creating an earplug effect so she could hear him clear as day when he spoke normally close to it.

“Natasha’s warned me off those, doll.”

She fought a shiver as he slowly removed his hands, letting them linger on her neck and shoulders before stepping back.

“Well, I said I’d take you clubbing, and that’s what I’m doing.” She said, shaking herself out of her haze, after realising she had been staring at his mouth a tad bit too long. She did have a weakness for neck-touches and lip-biting but this was _Bucky_. He was her friend and, sure, he was hot, but she was not super-soldier-girlfriend material, and being attracted to your BFF usually led to awkwardness when lingered over too long. She cleared her throat and looked down at the assortment of flavours to distract this chain of thoughts, and found them lacking.

“ _Aw_ , no jelly shots!”

It looked like he might have said ' _thank_ _God_ ' but she couldn’t hear, she started dividing them into two groups on the table, and took a sip of the water she’d also asked for.

“First we take shots, then we dance, then we take some more shots, then I'll wingwoman you or you'll wingman me and if none of us get lucky we hold each others hair back as the other pukes in the streets and you’re trying to hail a taxi.” _Because we both know i’m likely the one tossing her cookies tonight._

He frowned at her, obviously not liking the end of her plan.

“Relax, only five of these shots are mine, I won't puke from five shots. You need some extra to get affected, right? So I’m gonna talk you through the do’s and don’t’s of dancing and getting tipsy.” She then reached over and grabbed his right hand, licking between his thumb and knuckle before she shook salt on it and gave it back, enjoying his bewildered look as she did it to her own hand.

“Now, lick the salt, drink the shot then bite the lime.” She smiled, and did just that. When she was done she shivered from the burn of the alcohol and raised her eyebrow at Bucky, who was still standing there with the lime wedge and shot in his hands.

She raised her other eyebrow in challenge and he narrowed his eyes at her, licking, shotting and biting.

“That wasn't so bad was it,” she beamed at him. He made a vague gesture of displeasure and she laughed. “No worries, Bucky-Buck, by the end of the night you’ll be doing body shots” she winked and handed him the Jaegermeister. He sent her a quizzical look and accepted the shot, taking the second one while she drank some water.

She looked over the dance floor next to them trying to find an example of exactly how to dance and turned back to point out the guy in a blue plaid that was doing this really cool dance with a girl who looked like she was in over her head with her sky high heels. She mentally thanked herself for her own sensible shoe choice as he spun his partner and she nearly lost her balance.

“That guy in-” she caught sight of Bucky’s phone screen before he tucked it away, she glanced up at his face and a slow smirk spread over her face. “Where you just googling body shots?”

Bucky didn’t answer, she was pretty sure he grunted, maybe even flushed a little, but the music was too loud for her to hear and the flashing lights were of no help what so ever.

She kept grinning at him until he leaned forwards, closer than last time, “you offering?”  with that stupid half smirk of his.

She blinked, but didn’t answer. Trying to determine whether he was flirting, just being Bucky, or genuinely wanted to experience this body-shot (and how A-Okay she was with that). In the end he rolled his eyes nodding towards the dance floor with his eyebrows raised.

“Oh, yeah,” She shook herself again, wondering why she was so off tonight. Bucky was often close and flirty, but the music and crowd made him extra close, which again made him seem extra flirty and she had to admit that she had thought about it, about being with him, before. But she didn’t want her new best friend to be her awkward FWB or rebound, so she focused again on the guy with the moves.

“See the guy in the plaid who is dancing with the leggy blonde?” She asked, he nodded. “That’s your example, follow that and you’ll do great.” He grimaced at her and she laughed. “You can just move as you feel like as long as you avoid doing what frat-pack is doing over there.” She pointed to the group of boys in cargo shorts falling over themselves or humping up on unsuspecting women in their vicinity.

Bucky laughed and started taking the six different berry vodka shots and motioned for her to drink her three.

She rolled her eyes, but followed him, and drank the rest of her water as he awkwardly fixed up the salt for his last tequila shot. Smiling at him when he spit the lime out with a frown before she grabbed his hand, dragging him towards the dancing crowd.

She felt the shots heating her up more than the crowd had as she started shaking her hips in beat with the music and prodding him until he started moving too.

Once he’d gotten used to the crowd and the music and energy, he wasn’t half bad.  Really, she mused as the song started the build-up, he was quite good at this clubbing thing. They should've done it ages ago. There was a still in the music and she used it to get his attention.

“Jump!” she told him.

“What?!” he shouted back.

“When the beat drops, jump around.” she smiled, and when the dubstep took off she did just that, bringing her hands in the air and jumping, laughing as the music and atmosphere and alcohol all made her giddy and free.

She spun around and when she faced him again he smiled and started loosening up a bit more.

Oh, he was good, great in fact, she couldn’t wait to go swing dancing. Darcy thought as he started moving free and fluidly, fitting himself around her in the crowd, never touching but reading her movements. She grabbed his hand and spun herself into him, feeling his chest vibrate with his laugh as he spun her back out and in again, motherfucking dipping her and holding her close in some awesome fusion between swing-dancing and club-grinding.

Taking Bucky clubbing had been the best decision.

_The. Best._

They kept dancing until they were both sweaty and Darcy’s feet hurt; going to the bar for more of that one vodka flavour he said hadn’t been too bad and so that Darcy could rest her feet for a second.

“If I still smoked, this would be where we went outside for a smoke and met new people. For the full clubbing-experience, yah know?” she smiled as she took her eight shot of the night. She’d been good at drinking water regularly and the dancing helped her stay sober-ish, but there was no doubt that she was drunk. She was so hot, the warmth radiating from Bucky, steadying her precarious perch on the barstool, was no help whatsoever. She yanked the hair tie out of his hair and put her own up into a high ponytail, sighing in relief as she felt cool air on her neck.

She ignores his protests, and her own aching feet, as she runs out onto the dance floor again. She dances on the edge, feeling dizzy on alcohol and that fluffy happy blanket she’d been surrounded in since leaving home.

Bucky is just sitting there on the barstool she left him on and smiling at her as he finishes his shots, as she’d complained he was not drunk enough to cross ‘clubbing’ off his bucket list yet.

Out of seemingly thin air, the guy with the blue plaid shirt starts dancing with her, and what a smooth fellah he was. Dancing with the leggy-blonde (who still couldn't keep balance despite having taken off her sky high heels) and spinning her into his friend so he could dance with her instead.

Darcy knew she was good looking, but after months of living with superheroes and being ignored by Steve, it felt good to get some assurance.

Mr. Plaid moved around her and, unlike Bucky, made sure he touched her whenever possible, though not in the crude way that the frat-pack were doing it. It felt nice, any pinching though, and she’d not be sorry for hitting him with the right hook Bucky made her practice.

And suddenly Bucky’s there too, and he’s also touching her every chance he gets and she’s very hot and very turned on in the middle of this man-sandwich with Bucky and Mr. Plaid getting more sensual and risky. She enjoys it, drunk enough to let her body move to the beat and the movements they prompt her into.

Mr. Plaid lays his hands on her waist. Firmly gripping her hips and doing that slow sensuous grind that feels just as good as it looks, his thigh rubbing against the inside of hers. Then Bucky's hand is on her stomach. Bringing her upper body into his. She can feel his firm chest against her back and the hand on her stomach has slid down so it covers the top of her high waisted jeans, thumb and index finger stroking the skin over her belly button under her sequin top and his metal hand is low on her hip, she throws her head back so it's resting on Bucky's shoulder and moans. She feels good, her blood is pumping and she is getting attention she's been craving since her break up.  

She barely registers that Mr. Plaid leaves, only faintly registers that his leg is replaced with a thicker, warner thigh from behind and the hands on her hips leaving as she drags her fingers through the hair on the head next to hers. Grounding herself as the hand on her stomach and low on her hip slide to where the last pair of hands were, gripping her tighter and guiding her movements as she is too turned on to dance to the music vibrating through them, she can barely hear it over the rushing of blood in her ears anyway.

She grinds back into the hips behind her and down on the thigh between hers. Her senses are heightened and she hears a familiar voice groan as her ass grinds over his front, and it triggers a moan from her and she pulls the hair in her hand so that his face is on her neck. The growl that follows is felt more than heard... And suddenly she is spinning, almost floating across the floor until her back is to the pillar at the corner of the dance floor and her space is filled with Bucky.

His lips on her neck, her hands in his hair, his hips pinning hers as his hands stroke up and down her sides and she runs her heel over the back of his knee as she grinds on the thick thigh between her legs. She loves his thighs, she’d caught herself admiring them many-a-time, and will freely admit it now. She inhales sharply through her nose as the muscles in his thigh flex, bottom lip firmly trapped between her teeth, and she smells him. His aftershave, his shampoo, him. And she wants to rub her nose and face between his collarbones, like he’s doing right now.

They moan together and she drags his mouth away from her skin, uncertain whether she wants it in her cleavage or wants to kiss it. All she can see is his slightly swollen lips as he licks them, panting, and his dark and glassy eyes. And that she wants-

"More," and suddenly, like it started, it stops.

Bucky stills, his hands pushing her hips, that were arched up from the pillar and into his, back and extracts himself from her legs.

She thinks she can see him say “Not like this” but she is too overwhelmed to be sure. _Why not?_ her mind is asking, outrageous. She wants this, wants _him._   _Doesn’t he want me, too?_ Is there _anybody_ that wants her?

She whimpers, frustrated, angry, hurt, and drunk. In a huge confusing cocktail. And she lets go of his hair to grab his shirt, grasping at something to ground herself as she feels the sob wrench itself out of her throat.

Bucky takes a second to calm himself down before he wraps his arms around her. The desperate rush from before replaced with patient comfort. And after a few minutes, when her sobs turn to drunk hiccups. He slowly leads her to the coatroom, gets their coats and takes her outside to hail a cab.

“It’s alright,” he murmured into her hair as she soaked his henley, snot and all. He kept muttering quietly and the way he treated her, the way he held her, the way he honestly cared  so much brought on a new wave of wailing and sobs.

“I don’t want to need you to just... take care of me” she blubbered as he paid for the taxi and helped her out onto the long dirt road leading to the back of the mansion.

“Isn’t that what best friends are for?” he smiled as he steadied her, zipping up her jacket against the evening chill. She frowned at his hands, holding her coat collar after straightening it for her.

“Yeah, but I am independent and shit,” she assured him before promptly faceplanting over a freaking pebble.

She could sense him trying to hold back his laughter as he caught her, bringing her back to her feet and tucking her arm into the crook of his elbow, like he’d done earlier that day.

Jesus, had it just been a couple of hours since Steve yelled at her? She frowned, who cares about Steve, he doesn’t care about here. He’s not the one half carrying her drunk ass home. She focused on the mansion she could see in the distance instead of her stupid ex and let Bucky lead her down the long road, almost crying again when she realised just how long it was and just how her feet were not going to get her there.

“Fine!” she sighed after a couple of feet, stopping and holding her arms up like a child, stumbling a bit when she let go of his arm. “Carry me, I’m dependent until the shoes are off.” He laughed and picked her up like she weighed nothing, which she knew wasn’t the case.

She looped her arms around his neck, absently playing with the hair at the back of his neck.

“Sorry for stealing your hair tie,” she sniffed, loosening one arm to rub at her face.

“That’s alright.”

“And sorry for getting so drunk.”

“I thought that was the plan.”

She made a noise between a groan and a snort.

“That’s attractive.” Bucky smirked and she slapped his chest in annoyance.

“You were supposed to be drunk too!” She grumbled, slipping her arm back to meet her other arm as the swaying of his step made her feel a bit dizzy, it did not help with the stupid spinning the trees around them seemed to be doing.

“I was, for about ten minutes, before I sobered up again.”

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, but the drunk fog over his eyes when they’d been grinding in the club was gone now. She wiggled a bit, squeezing her things together with the memory, as she sighed at his stupid soberness.

“Sorry, I guess nobody’s holding anybody’s hair back tonight at least.” He smiled at her.

“Too early to tell, let’s be honest you sway like a boat.”

He laughed but she did feel him shift and hold her steadier.

“Good thing you stole that hair tie then.” he mused. She returned to playing with his hair, humming her agreement.

“Good-er thing you stopped with the swagger,” she sighed before she rubbed her face in his chest and closed her eyes, exhausted.

“Wake me if I snore,” she whispered as sleep took her, lulling her deeper with the feel of Bucky’s steady heartbeat under her cheek.

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (ok so the super-soldier only stayed drunk for a little while, but Darcy can finally cross "go clubbing" off the 21st Century Bucket List.) 
> 
> Also guys, the tragus (that little flip over the hole in your ear) it's important to squeeze it when you want people to hear you in a loud place. I nearly lost my hearing in the glorious Norwegian tradition known as "russetid" (basically 3 weeks of partying, getting drunk, and doing stupid things while wearing matching trousers) So whenever someone wants to scream something in your ear, push it down yourself if they don't, it has the same effect as an earplug and you will hear the shouted thing as clear as normal conversation. Spread the word to save the eardrums!!
> 
> ((Thank you, for your continued beta work, Meg! You are forever appreciated!))


	4. the two of us (we were not meant to be)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy is hungover, Bucky makes great omelettes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am running out of lyrics for this fic...

_***** _

_**Vi to, vi to, vi to, var en demo** _   
_**Vi to, vi to, vi to, var en demo**_

*

Apparently she didn’t snore, she mused, hours later when she woke up in her own bed. She groaned at the sliver of sunlight coming into the room through the crack in her curtain; angled into her face perfectly.  She rolled over and nausea hit her, along with that empty feeling that told her she had tossed her cookies the night before.

Laying completely still until her empty stomach calmed, she sat up; slower this time, taking in her surroundings.

Her room wasn’t as messy as she’d left it the night before. Seeing as she never really had any visitors (at least never in her bedroom, and bringing strangers home for a one night stand was out of the question) she’d left clothes littering the floor and thrown over every piece of furniture there was. Now, all the clothes on her chair were folded and left on her dresser; the clothes littering her floor were gathered into one pile by her full laundry bag. She frowned at the now visible floor and tried to remember if she’d been drunk-cleaning last night, but the only thing she remembered was falling asleep in Bucky’s arms.

She checked the alarm clock on the nightstand and found a huge glass of water and a paracetamol. Blessing Bucky for putting them there, she gingerly scooted to the edge of the bed to reach them.  It wasn’t too late either, she had no memory of when they came home, but it was only 10 am. Though she felt _reduced_ , she didn’t necessarily feel tired.

While waiting for her paracetamol to work, she dragged herself to the pile of clothes; hunting down her favourite fuzzy sweater and chill-bra. The sequin top had left a small blister on the inside of her left arm where it had rubbed while she’d been dancing.  It was with a sigh of relief that she chucked off both the top and her super supportive, sexy dance-bra. Wearing nothing but her underwear, she walked into the ensuite, started up a hot shower and tried to avoid looking at the train wreck that was her face. As she stuffed the contents of her laundry bag into the machine next to the full body mirror.

Her mouth felt fuzzy, but tasted slightly like peppermint and she thanked herself for remembering to brush her teeth after she puked. She brushed them again to get the fuzzy feeling out before she jumped into the amazing shower.

She was never going to complain to Tony again for his overly expensively done bathrooms.

Clean and dressed for comfort, she felt like a whole new person. With her hair wrapped in a tall towel-turban and balanced precariously on her head (Tony hadn’t spared any money on towels either and they were always huge and fluffy and replaced every other week  when the cleaning staff came into her rooms) she blessed the paracetamol for kicking in and hunted down her phone.

It was still in the back pocket of the jeans she had kicked to the end of her bed. Frowning at the low battery she cursed herself for not charging it before hitting the hay. At least she hadn’t put it in the freezer to prank her sober-self; the Cold Case of the Keys in 2011 was one of the stories Jane just _loved_ to tell whenever she let science go long enough to socialise. Speaking of, she had two missed texts asking her where the data she needed for her project was and asked her if she was free for dinner. Darcy rolled her eyes and sent the archive link to the readings from Iceland and the data Erik sent over last month.

She then texted Thor, knowing he loved it when he got one, telling him she’d make him _Rømmegrøt_. It was a Norwegian sweet porridge she’d gotten in Tromsø that Thor told her he remembered from ancient viking times. Instantly getting a text back with a lot of emoticons and promises to acquire the cured meat that went with such a feast, she smiled and threw her phone on her bed, dried and brushed her hair before she made her way out to the kitchen.

She had a kitchenette in her living room, but she never bothered to stock it, nor did she like it when her whole living room smelled of cooking oil, so she’d claimed a shelf in the walk-in fridge in the common kitchen months ago.

Walking in she was met by Sulky-Steve, whom she hadn’t really seen since the days after they broke up, stirring his cereal mush, and Energetic-Bucky, (fuck him for not getting hangovers), making eggs and bacon.

Nothing had ever smelled so good in her life.

“Morning,” Bucky smiled at her, no he _grinned_ , and she was suddenly 99% positive that he had been present for the cookie tossing that went down last night. _Great_.

She hummed back suspiciously and made a beeline for the coffee, sitting herself down on the chair opposite Steve.

She enjoyed the silence, only the sound of crackling bacon and the toaster popping out toast and the occasional clink of spoon against bowl as Steve stared at it as if it contained the answers of the universe.

Bucky placed a plate with a hearty portion in front of her, brushing her damp hair over her shoulder and letting his hand trail down her shoulder blade to the small of her back. She shivered and looked up at him;he was smiling softly at her and she wondered what exactly had been said and done after he carried her up the gravel road. She also wondered if she wanted to find out...

He placed his own plate next to hers and pulled out his chair, as he gently massaged the small of her back with his thumb on a regular basis.

She thanked him for breakfast and dug in, simultaneously thanking herself for the hangover-cure themed cooking class she had the foresight to give him last week. This tasted amazing!

She moaned around a mouthful of chorizo-omelet on buttery toast, giving him a ketchup covered thumbs up as she enjoyed her food.

He finished before she did ( _stupid super-serum metabolisms_ ), despite his  much bigger portion, and leaned back; throwing his arm over the back of her chair, playing with a lump of her wet hair next to his hand. She leaned back into the heat of his fingers, moaning around another mouthful as he gently massaged the back of her head.

“You spoil me,” she told him, around the mouthful of eggs closing her eyes and leaning into his touch.

“Nothing you don’t deserve, Doll,” he returned and kept up the head massage.

They stayed like that for a while; Steve staring at his cereal and ignoring their presence; Bucky massaging her head and shoulders while he  hummed softly tunes she vaguely remembered hearing the dubstep version of last night and she cracked open one eye to see him smiling, eyes soft and looking at her. And she felt it. She _understood_.

“Oh.” She sighed, closing her eyes again to hide her slight panic at the realisation.

_Bucky liked her._

It was so obvious now that she wondered how on earth she could have missed it. The way he sought out her presence, didn’t object to any of the activities she initiated, and often found excuses to touch her, never moving away when she touched him, but prolonged and accommodated their contact for as long as he could.

And the dancing last night. She remembered vividly his mouth on her neck, the growls and his hands on her and the feel of his body against hers. She felt warmth in her belly and a tingling further south. It had been hot, very so, but she was drunk at the time, too drunk to really appreciate it.

And they way he had stood up for her to Steve, the way he frowned whenever she talked about him. Oh God, she’d been talking about Steve a lot, they rarely talked about her past relationship, but when she did talk about Steve it was often in a way that made it obvious that she liked him. And Bucky had done nothing about that, just sat there and held her hand through her heartbreak, literally and figuratively.

“ _Not like this”_ he’d said last night, she thinks,  as he pulled away from her. He didn’t want to take advantage, even though she was practically dry humping his leg and offering herself to him on a silver platter.

This didn’t come with the _amount_ of panic that she thought it should have, no hysterics at all really. What did send a cold feeling to her chest and panic down her spine was the way she had absolutely no problem with his affection at all. As a matter of fact, she felt the same, and that scared her.

_She liked Bucky._

She opened her eyes to see Bucky staring at the TV behind Steve, still absently massaging the back of her head. He sensed her eyes on him and turned, searching her face and giving her another soft smile before he looked back to the friends rerun.

She bit her lip and glanced at Steve, who was still in his own world; frowning at his phone instead of his cereal this time, as if willing it to light up with a message from Carter.

She finally admitted to herself what she’d been ignoring for weeks.

She was over Steve, she’d never really been herself with him, and their relationship had been more of a break from their reality than a committed relationship based on mutual trust and deep found emotion. It had been easy and natural, yes, and the sex had been great and it could have turned into something more. But it didn’t.

It had been too easy. And the worst thing about it was that she’d clung on for so long. Actually the worst part had been how Steve had handled it and how that in turn had made her feel less than she was. She frowned at Steve’s phone too. Wanting it to light up with the Avengers Beacon so he’d leave before she smashed his face into his soggy cereal.

She looked up at Bucky again before she suddenly stood up, restless with energy and agitation.

She gathered their plates and caught Steve’s eye by banging the cutlery about.

“For the love of God, Steve, just call her already, apologise and talk out what you actually meant. And be _honest_ with her, she deserves that.” _So did I_ went unspoken before she fixed him with the stare her mother often gave her when she was little and avoided doing her chores.

She whipped around and dumped the plates on the counter and returned to find Steve frozen in his seat, looking a mixture between sheepish, guilty and scared.

“Go on!” she waved her hands, shooing him from the kitchen. He got up, almost stumbled over his chair and left the kitchen with his phone pressed to his ear, glancing at the pair he left in the kitchen apologetically before he left for the Avengers Apartments.

She turned on her heel and left through the other doorway, the one leading to the Support-Staff Quarters, and marched back to her rooms. Her hangover was not helping at all. Bucky followed her into her room, concern grazing his face. “Darce, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” she dismissed, throwing the general clutter of clothes that were scattered around her living room, into her laundry basket and hissing at him when he tried to help. Tidying always helped her calm down somewhat whenever she was stressed or distressed. The mind numbing and monotonous motions helped her feel like she was doing something productive even though she was avoiding actually doing anything. She narrowed her eyes at him when she was out of clothes to pick up in the living room, remembering that he’d already folded up her clothes in her bedroom.  He held up his arms in defense and retreated to the couch.

She was agitated. The revelation, her own pining for Steve, the grinding, the fight, everything was a hot mess in her head right now.

She liked Bucky. She had for a long time. But after so many flings and breakups, and with the way she’d felt like complete trash after Steve basically started pretending she didn’t exist, she was scared… Okay, she was _fucking terrified._

Taking a chance was hard, and usually she was the kind who jumped at them, choosing to focus on the positives and believing it worth it, but in this matter she’d gotten burned too much. What if Bucky turned her down? She thought he might like her too, but a little over a year ago he’d been a brainwashed assassin, struggling to find out what memories were real and which dreams were purely imagination. He might not be ready for a relationship. He might be using her to get his feet under himself, test the 21st century and what worked her and what didn’t. So if he told her he didn’t want to date her, to kiss her or fucking make love to her, would he start treating her like Steve had? Like she meant nothing and was all _used up?_  And if he didn’t refuse her, would they start dating only to break up a short while later and stop being friends? What if- no.

No. _You know Bucky wouldn’t. He isn’t like that._

She felt a bit light headed and threw her laundry bag into her bathroom. Standing in the doorway for a full minute to focus on calming her breathing.

Her mind was a merry-go-around of emotions and memories and fantasies, and it was getting hard to tell them all apart. Except all the good thoughts, the thoughts that were not bittersweet nor sour, they all featured Bucky in some way, shape or form.

“You know what?” She said out loud to herself as much as Bucky as she turned to him, still sitting on her couch, and strode over with a determined expression, fisting her hand in his hair and bringing his face to hers.

She slammed her lips over his, furiously trying to both apologise and tell him she wanted this in her kiss.

He responded immediately, hands coming up to her waist, squeezing like he had last night. She whimpered and he licked into her mouth, bringing her closer. Running her left hand down his neck and over his shoulder, she sat down on his lap and scratched his scalp lightly, making him moan. The kiss was hungry and slightly desperate. All consuming and she wanted more, breaking only to take a gulp of oxygen and bring one knee over his lap, she returned her lips to his, scratching at his stubble and pulling his hair. It was feverish and passionate and _oh God_ she wanted him.

But after her quick break and reposition, Bucky changed the pace of their kissing, making it sweet and slow and taking his time, calming her down. He brought his hands to her face and held it still as he kissed her nose and eyelids, cheek, temples and softly pecking her lips.

She went with it, clutching his arm and hair, breathing heavily as he kept kissing her all over her face and gently running a hand over her hair. The flesh hand, as the plates would catch in her locks, his metal hand cooled her hot cheek as his thumb calmly stroked soothing circles over her cheekbone. And he gave her time to let her brain catch up with her.

She didn’t want to think, she just wanted to give in to her primal wants and needs, to have him right here on the couch. The very same couch they spent the best parts of her days on. She kissed him again, not as hard as before, accepting the pace he’d offered, and after a minute she couldn’t shake of the feeling that something was not _quite_ right.

She broke the kiss off, and they sat there, clutching at each other, panting as she leaned her forehead against his.

“I can’t-” she muttered, forcing herself not to cry as she looked at his nose and cheek, instead of his eyes. “I’m not ready,” she admitted to them both.

He smiled softly, she saw the change in his cheeks and her eyes flickered down to his mouth, wanting to kiss it again, wanting to kiss all of him, but knowing she shouldn’t, she _couldn’t_.

“I know.” he answered. She burrowed her face in his neck, breathing him in and just letting him hold her.

“I’m sorry,” she mumbled into his collar, he’d worn his Hawaiian shirt today, the one she’d given him as a joke on his 98th birthday a few weeks ago. He’d mentioned a memory where a man in their building had come into a lot of money and taken his wife to Hawaii, returning to move their things wearing the ridiculous shirt. She’d googled, and found that they were a trend in the 40’s and 50’s but originally worn on the island to help the tourists shed the worries of the mainland. She clutched his collar until her knuckles turned white and she closed her eyes, stopping the tears at the punch to her gut as she remembered his face when she’d told him the meaning of the shirt. [_‘Forget your troubles, come on be happy!’_](http://theeyeoffaith.com/2014/07/23/style-wise-the-case-for-hawaiian-shirts/)

She should have figured it out then.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated, hoping he knew everything she was apologising for.

“Don’t be.”

She frowned at his tone, “you don’t have to sound so patronising,” she accused and sat up, flipping herself onto the cushion next to him, leaning into his side instead. He brought his metal arm around her and she laid her head comfortably on his chest, on the fleshy part right under his scar.

“I didn’t mean to, I know you hate that. I understand, kinda,” he sighed, she felt her head move up and down with his chest as his breath fanned over her hair. “I’ll be here though. You won’t lose me like you lost Steve.”

She blinked away the tears, unsuccessfully this time. Silently cursing as she felt wetness on her left cheek, she turned her face away and discreetly dried it on his his flowered sleeve. He held his arm so that it was easier for her to rub her cheek on it, and she rolled her eyes. Discreet was never really a thing for her... she should just get ‘so-not-a-spy’ on a t-shirt.

“I’m sorry,” she repeated again, feeling she could never do it enough. “I know you won’t do that, and I know you’re not patronising, I just feel really agitated and you’re here so you’re getting the brunt of it.”

She glanced at him and saw him nodding. She absentmindedly started playing with his metal hand again, twisting and bending the fingers and sliding the plates.

She shrugged, sighed and kept fiddling.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bucky asked her after a long silence.

“Yeah,” she sat up, huffing and puffing and ready to blow the fucking house down, then the air went out of her, “Not to you, though, well not yet. I’ll tell you about it later. I just gotta give him a piece of my mind first.” She explained, knowing he knew full well whom she was referring to.

“Alright, I’ll wait.” He brought his other arm around her, snuggling further into the cushions with her cradled and _oh-so_ protected and safe and _cared for_. And she knew he’d wait, he’d waited for her for a long time, and he’d probably wait as long as she needed. _God_ she was an idiot.

“How long?” She asked, voice coming out ragged.

“Since the picnic.” He admitted, thumb stroking over her arm, she leaned further into him.

“Hm,” She replied, bringing his hand up to her face and kissing his palm, entwining their fingers as she let them drop back to her stomach. She felt sleepy and exhausted, still hungover and on an emotional bender. She needed to talk to Steve, soon. But she wanted to do it when she wasn’t half dead and bushy-haired.

She wasn’t a shallow nor a superficial person, but damn it she was gonna wear her favourite lipstick and doing her eyebrows before she took him down.

She’d do it tomorrow though... Tuesday at the latest. She needed to get this sorted out, she owed herself that. And she wanted this whole miserable ordeal to be over, both for her and for Bucky. She looked up at him, hiding a yawn behind her hand. His eyes met hers and he yawned too,  a slow smile spread over his face after, as he pulled her afgan over them.

“Take a nap, Darce.”

“Oh, alright then,” she snuggled up and got comfortable on his chest, hugging the arm not intertwined with his around his waist. “‘m gonna make rum-groot later, wanna help?”

“Rum what?”

“Rum-groot - it’s a porridge made from sour cream,” she sighed and shut her eyes, “I’m making it for Jane and Thor. You’re welcome to eat with us too, of course.” She added, almost unnecessary as he knew helping make the food was an unofficial invitation to eat it too, unless stated otherwise.

“Can’t, sorry, I can help you get started on the sour cream porridge- _thing_ , but I got a meeting with Maria later.”

“Oh, yeah, I saw that on a memo in her office,” Darcy said through another yawn and felt her speech turn slurry when she continued; “tell me how it went tomorrow at lunch, yeah?”

She felt his chest rumble as he hummed an affirmative and for the second time in a row she fell asleep on his chest, knowing she wanted to do this again and again for the next foreseeable future.

*

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, thank you guys soooo much for all your feedback! *hearteyes* 
> 
> And Meg, darling, thank you, again!


	5. you never returned it (the smile I offered)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy eats rømmegrøt, then gives relationship advice like a pro.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! Sorry for leaving this for many many many moons! I had a huge writers block, but I'm back! Thank you for all your comments and kudos, still tickling in after I left this fic alone for such a long time!

Found a remix of the song this fic is inspired by, [here](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Vs764BDu4HY) :)

 

*****

**Vi to, vi to, vi to, vi va en demo, demo, demo  
** **Vi to, vi to, vi to, vi to, va en demo, demo, demo, demo**

*

“You did  _ what _ ?!” Jane asked, spoonful of fatty rømmegrøt halfway to her mouth.

Darcy rolled her eyes and finished chewing her salted and dried reindeer meat.    
  
“I kissed him,” she repeated then sent a look to Thor over Jane’s overreacting. Only to be met by an equally thunderstruck (pun _ totally  _ intended) expression.

“Oh c’mon guys. S’not as if it wasn’t obvious.” Darcy muttered as she stirred her porridge and took another spoonful.

“To us, yeah, it was pretty damn obvious,” Jane told her before stuffing her now cold porridge into her mouth and cringing at the way the fat had separated from it. 

“We were uncertain whether you had realised what Barnes’ feelings were. You seemed to be… hung on?” he shot a quick look to Jane to check whether he had used the right expression. 

“Up on,” Jane corrected after  _ discreetly _ trying (and failing) to spit the porridge into her napkin.

“Hung  _ up _ on the Captain and the Lady Carter he was courting to notice your growing infatuation.”

She scowled at the pair of them. “Well, _ thank you _ , I finally noticed. Not only did I notice it a few months too late, but I also managed to fuck it right up from the get go,  _ so _ !” She stood up and started gathering her plate and bowl.

“Darcy-” Jane protested.

“No, I’m sorry. I’m just mad at myself.” She continued as she slammed the plate into the dishwasher. “No, actually I am not mad, I am furious. I am like Furiosa level furious, no chill, and it is only about 70% directed at me. The rest of the 30% is directed at him. Not Bucky,” she clarified, ” _ Shitty-Steve _ !” She exclaimed and dumped her bowl into the sink and spun on the happy  _ uncomplicated _ couple sitting at their dining table, Thor looking wary and Jane smirking at Darcy  _ finally  _ calling Steve shitty. 

She stood there, breathing hard and not knowing whether to scream or kick the chair in front of her, though both seemed good, when she felt tears well up in her eyes again. 

“God _ damnit _ !” She screamed, then kicked the chair for good measure. 

“Fuck!” Now her toe hurt!

Hopping over to the couch and focusing more on the pain in her toe than the pain in her chest, she wondered if maybe there was a limit of how many tears you had to cry in a lifetime and maybe this crappy year was just the universe throwing her a curveball, reminding her that she was in her mid twenties and still hadn’t gotten close to using up her high school quota.  _ This sucks.  _

“Darcy…” Jane soothed her and let Darcy cry on her ugly flannel shirt, literally crying about how much she hated crying. Thor stood behind them and rested a hand on her head, somehow letting his strength seep through her scalp. Some Åsgard magic thing, probably. 

It worked though, so she didn’t knock it. 

She cried, she told them everything, about Steve, about Sharon, about her struggles with her own self worth and confidence. And about Bucky. How he’d always been there, how he put her first, how he defended her, how he humoured her and repeatedly let her take him out of his comfort zone. About his recovery, and how she was utter shit for failing him. For probably setting him back a step or two and being completely ignorant.

“Because I’m just not ready.” She ended on a tired sigh, feeling relieved to get to talk about this, finally. 

Jane continued patting her back and Thor took her hands in his enormous ones, looking into her eyes and asking her “What do you need, Lady Darcy?” 

She smiled at him, a week wet smile that was probably full of snot. 

“I need to get closure. I need to talk to Steve. I need to talk to Sharon. I need to find out why this situation was so crappy to begin with, and I need to do this all by myself.” She squeezed Thor’s hands. “Thank you.” She winced at the mascara spot on Jane’s shoulder.

“Don’t think about it” Jane brushed off, “just give us the word if you need anything, yeah? I don’t care what science is doing, I can take a break to help you with whatever you need.”

Darcy nodded. “This was exactly what I needed, thanks, though I am not beneath calling you in for distractions,” she told Thor, “to keep Steve or Bucky away as I figure shit out.” 

She wiped her face and stood.

“Do you want to be with Bucky?” Jane asked after a second. 

“Yes. I do. I- I love him.” 

“Then you should tell him, and soon.”

“I know, Jane” Darcy grimaced, she’d rather take a 70 year long nap and wait for this to solve itself. Though apparently 70 year long naps solves nothing… 

“Just make sure you don’t put this off for too long, that’s all.” Jane smiled kindly to her.

“Yes,” Thor nodded, then lifted his fist in solidarity, before sagely saying; “you go girl,” with a straight face.

*

**_Nå e det over for eg liggar å sovar  
_ ** **_Kvelden blir trist, det gikk galt, eg lovar_ **

*****

Her first confrontation came earlier than she had expected. Earlier in every sense of the word.

“Jesus F christ and his 2nd cousin,” Darcy swore as she rolled out out bed at the relentless knocking on her door, only cracking her eyes open for a second to pick up her robe and glare at her alarm clock. “It’s barely 6 AM this better be life or death! I'm talking alien invasions and- oh!”

Because it was not Jane with a science breakthrough. Nor Bucky with a memory breakthrough. Not even Natasha, dragging her out for one of her sporadic morning runs. It wasn’t even Agent Jameson with paperwork, or Maria Hill demanding she hand in her work. 

It was Sharon Carter... and Darcy still had her retainer in. 

“Mind if I come in?” She asked, holding up a bag of baked goods, because _of course_ Perfect Carter managed to stop by a bakery 20 minutes away and pick up croissants and coffee before 5:46. “I brought breakfast.”

She blinked at the agent with the perfectly curled hair and resigned herself to the fact that this conversation was going to happen. 

“Thanks?” Darcy tried to blink herself into motion.  _ Grab the bag, invite her in, fix your room, fix your face. Something should be fixed. _

“Sorry for waking you.” Carter apologised, bag dropping slightly out of her view, helping Darcy stop staring.

“I- yeah, if you’ll just excuse me one moment.” Darcy stuttered. She was flushed and flustered, and promptly closed the door in Carter’s face.

“Shit.” she muttered, bracing herself against the door for a second before high-tailing it to the bedroom to shut off her alarm and fix her face.

She quickly tidied up the mess of the past two days, not that there was a lot, but Carter probably lived in a spotless apartment, since she apparently had the time and energy to go out for coffee and curl her hair at 4:30 in the morning. 

Five minutes later, hair brushed back into a ponytail, retainer out and mascara leftovers scrubbed from her eyes, she finally found and put on her glasses. Why were they under the bed anyway?

Opening the door found Carter standing exactly where Darcy had left her, and still wearing a polite smile.

“Sorry,” Darcy winced and opened the door, letting her in. 

“No problem, as you pointed out, it is barely  6 AM, but I wanted to catch you before work, and I didn’t get any sleep...” 

Darcy just nodded as they both sat down on her couch, awkwardly staring at a corner of the coffee table each. 

“You brought breakfast?” Darcy broke the silence and carefully studied the agent sitting next to her as she busied about opening the bag and setting out the pastries. 

She did not look as perfect as she had before Darcy had her glasses on. Her hair was a little flat on one side, and she could see that a layer of concealer had been applied to the bags under her eyes. She did indeed look like she had not slept, She still looked miles better than Darcy did after an all-nighter.  

“I talked to Steve,” Carter started, Darcy sipped her coffee, waiting patiently for her to continue.

“I want to apologise to you,” she continued, “I had no idea that you were with Steve before me, which makes me the worst spy in the world.” She rolled her eyes, sipping her own coffee.

“Nah,” Darcy shrugged, “I’m used to people not quite considering me, I’m not a genius, nor a superhero, and I can’t even shoot a gun so that makes me pretty invisible around here.”

Sharon met her eyes, confusion evident. “What are you talking about? You are the furthest from invisible. You walk into the room with this sort of commanding presence. You are who you are and you don’t pretend to be somebody else when you meet new people.”

Now it was Darcy's turn to be confused. She felt like she’d been the fakest bitch in the world around Carter. 

“I guess now I really understand why you were just polite to me. But I saw you talking to Thor and Stark and to be honest I am still on last name basis with most Avengers and I know Steve has been talking me up, while you are friendly and casual with most of them!” Carter sounded almost frantic as she explained. “I can easily see why Barnes doesn’t hesitate to follow you to the moon and back. Steve had his doubts, but anyone can easily see that Barnes is over the moon for you, and with good reason.”

Feeling her face start to flush, Darcy bashfully blinked at her own cup of coffee. Yet another person who saw what she hadn’t. 

"Anyway. Back to the topic at hand. The reason I am here is to say thank you, I am glad you dated Steve before me."

_ Say what now? _

Darcy blinked at her now, embarrassment forgotten with the pure shock of Carter’s confession. What sort of mind games could this possibly be?

"He is a lot more open and a little more goofy. Not afraid to laugh. And I think I owe most of that to you,” Carter continued. “And I really don't know what happened between you two in the end. But you didn’t talk in the beginning and I thought you had a crush and he was keeping his distance because of me and Barnes. But we talked yesterday and he told me he thinks he might have hurt your feelings." She rolls her eyes with an exasperated sigh "he has no idea how to talk to pretty girls."

_ Sharon Carter thinks you’re pretty _ _!_ Suddenly the tired looking agent didn’t look as intimidating as she had before. Maybe it was the fact that she obviously had the same issues with communications in her relationship with Steve as Darcy had, maybe it was the way she seemed so honest. 

Or maybe it was just that the coffee was kicking in and Darcy was feeling a bit more like herself than she had at the buttcrack of dawn… 10 minutes ago.  

"Look, Lady,” Darcy started out a bit sassier than she intended, “you don’t need to explain yourself to me or anything. It’s none of my business and all I want is for you to know the truth because I am familiar with Steve’s stupid-ass need to keep everything low key while high keying out of airplanes.”

Sharon, because with the whole ‘hey we’ve sucked the same dick’ undertone of this conversation earned her the right to be on first name basis with her, snorted. 

“I don't want you to think I moved in to steal your man or anything, but that is not why I came to you this morning” Sharon explained. “I am not here just to ease my conscience. I just want you to know that whatever happened between Steve and I it was never about you. Also-"

"Wait, what do you mean; what happened?" Darcy asked.

"We broke up."

Darcy blinked. 

"Like, Ross and Rachel? You're on a break-"

"No.” Sharon interrupted. “We broke up. It- I just." Sharon shook her head.

"Not to be rude or anything, but you don’t have to let me in on your personal life," Darcy said, rudely, seeing how uncomfortable Sharon was acting. How her eyes kept going to all the exits, how her body tensed for flight.

"You didn't have to tell me you broke up with my ex, and though I do appreciate it! Don't get me wrong, thank you for talking to me and everything... But unless you are here for the ‘let's visit Piper in jail and get her blessing’-thing then, why?" She fumbled, wondering if Sharon even had the time to watch Orange is the New Black.

"I don't like talking about my emotions.” Sharon started, biting her lip.

“I don't think there is a single person in this place who does. Psych eval week is the  _ worst _ … Trust me, I don’t even have psych evals, but I am the one who has to shepherd Tony Stark and the Incredible Hulk to them and they are just one of the many PTSD slash suffer-in-silence types I deal with.”

“Psych evals are hell, period.” Sharon agreed, “but I think -I think I need to talk about this with you because you probably get it. And both of us might even get closure from it. At least start to." Sharon braced herself, looking Darcy straight in the eye, almost like she was begging for her understanding.

"You might already know this but my aunt is Peggy Carter, Steve's first love." She winced to herself as she said it, "and sometimes when he looks at me I think he sees her."

Darcy nodded, "I never knew Peggy myself, but I've seen pictures. And I used to think that Steve was with me maybe because of my curly brown hair or the way I wore my swing dress the day we met." Darcy admitted, "it's not like he ever called me Peggy, but sometimes he would get this look, and at the time I thought he was falling in love with me, but looking back now, he always lost that look whenever I got a little too pop-culture-y or, I don't know, American."

"Yeah imagine him calling you Carter." Sharon snorted, then sniffed. And suddenly Sharon "always perfect" Carter was crying on her couch. Darcy didn't even hesitate before sitting closer and bringing her arm around her. She'd been through breakups. She’d even been through a breakup with the same dude.

"I'm sorry it's just so hard because, I really do love him, I do. He is wonderful and great and I see why aunt Peg fell for him. But he could have easily been my uncle? And I, I just, I know he loves me for me, but there is just too much of her in our relationship. And I can't take it anymore. It's like poison!"

Darcy patted Sharon on the top of her head and waited as she sobbed into her sweater. Occasionally catching words like “Steve,” or “asshole” or “love” and even what sounded like “shank his perfect ass.”

After a while she pulled herself together and Darcy passed her a pack of kleenex.

“Thanks,” she muttered and wiped under her eyes.

“If it’s any consolation the word for married in Norwegian is “Gift” and though it’s written like it’s a present the double meaning is actually poison… so.”

“I don’t get it.” Sharon laughed, still sniffling.

“I didn’t either but the Norwegian guide SHIELD gave us in Tromsø thought it was hilarious and let it influence her whole view on marriage and- yeah. It was a bad joke. Sorry, I panicked.” Darcy trailed of as Sharon snorted.

Sharon hastily finished wiping her face before she stood, looking almost as if nothing had happened. Darcy made a note to ask Natasha if she could find out where Sharon got that concealer because damn. Darcy was impressed, and a tiny bit envious, and took another big bite of her pastry. Sharon was kind enough not to stare as she spilled jam down her chin.

“Thank you, for this. I know we were never really friends before, but I hope we can be now?” She looked so uncertain that even if Darcy had disagreed she still would have nodded.

“I gotta go gather his stuff from my place,” Sharon rolled her eyes as she got up to leave.

“The most tedious part of a break up,” Darcy agreed, standing up also.

“I need to have a little break, I'm asking Maria to relocate me, so I might not be around for the next few weeks. But after getting some space and burying myself in work I’ll be sure to drop by with more coffee. I see why people embrace you so easily, you really are the ray of sunshine that Barnes keeps going on about.” Sharon smiled and opened her door.

“Thank you again, I- Sharon?” Darcy reached out and pulled Sharon back into her living room a little bit, fully clear of the cameras monitoring there in case Clint or Natasha decided to practice their lip-reading skillz.

“I'm not judging you. You gotta know I’m the last person who could.  Not a single bit of this is your fault, and you should not feel guilty. Not about falling for Steve, nor for breaking up with him. And if,  _ IF _ , after a few months apart, a few months for him to process and mourn his loss, to grieve without distractions,  _ if _ you still love him and you feel like he can leave Peggy out of it, there is nothing wrong with going back to him.”

Sharon looked at her for a long second before she narrowed her eyes a tiny bit and opened her mouth defensively.

“No, no! Don't say anything now.” Darcy stopped her, “I know you might not have any plans of getting back with him, but his relationship to you was much more serious than the one he had with Peggy. And you never know. I'm not saying you should go back to him, I am also not saying you should kill him in his sleep or anything. Just... give it time. And take a break. Let him find his way and see if it helps, but don't put your life on hold for him, in case he isn't capable of that... Okay?"

Sharon nodded and wrapped her in a quick hug, squeezing hard before suddenly letting go.

“Thank you. I'll see you around Darcy.”

“Sure, no problem, I'll see you!”

“Oh and Darcy? You should talk to him, get your own closure.”

Darcy sighed. “I know, just give him a day or two to get his feet under him before he jumps off another building without a parachute, I can't be blamed for that, Bucky will be complaining for days!”

Sharon laughed, “You know, another reason why I didn't think there was anything between you and Steve was because I thought you and Bucky were an item.”

This time it was Darcy's time to snort, before she smiled fondly, “I'm beginning to realise that. Bucky's a super patient trooper.”

Sharon smiled “Yeah, you're lucky to have found each other. And if you ever need to vent about dating a world war two veteran; Maria’s got my contact info."

And with a last smile and a hug Sharon Carter left and Darcy felt better than she had in days… and it wasn’t even 7 AM. 

She walked back into her bedroom to find the clothes she’d wear to work, only to glance at the alarm and see she had another 30 minutes until her alarm went off. 

“Thank fuck,” she muttered, ditched her glasses and threw herself, face first, back into bed. One of her nap hacks since college had been to chug energy drinks or coffee before taking a quick 20 min power nap, that way she fell asleep before the coffee kicked in, and the coffee would be working beautifully by the time her alarm went off. 

Pleased with the timing she’d slipped easily into a blissful sleep... Which lasted for about 10 seconds before her phone started beeping like crazy. 

She groaned and plucked the phone off the floor and connected the charger. 

3 texts from Bucky. 

_ “Good morning, sunshine! Wanna join us? _ ”

Next was a picture - a selfie from the chest up of Bucky, with exaggerated duckface and  Sam jogging in the distance over Bucky’s shoulder. 

_ 'I had to slow down for the kiddo to catch up.' _

_ 'Fuck you' _  she typed back and switched it to vibrate, but the damage was done and she was already awake.

A few seconds later her phone buzzed and showed a selfie of Bucky’s face, grinning wildly with his hair sticking up and Sam… doing a handstand?

She squinted, retrieved her glasses and looked at the picture again. 

Oh, Bucky was hanging upside down from a branch and Sam stood stretching in the background. 

She snapped a picture of herself doing the duckface too, and hiding her eyes behind the her 1 fingered salute. 

_ 'Get out of that tree and help the poor man stretch' _

_ ';D' _

*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm running out of song lyrics... 
> 
> Thank you for being a fabulous beta, Meg! 
> 
> Also the wait for the next chapter is much shorter than the wait for this, I promise!


	6. og vær så snill kjære (bare si du vil ha meg)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, having started getting her shit together, decides to help other people gather their shits.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for your comments and kudos and the will to keep at it with the writing and stuff! 
> 
> Chapter title is the last line of the lyric, translated it means "And please honey (just tell me you want me)" so we've come full circle ;)

**_*_ **

**_For det igjen ga aldri, det smilet eg ga deg_ **

*  
  


“You're an especially persistent little buggy-bug today, Bug.” Tony noted as she pushed his sandwich in front of his face for the third time, not even sighing in irritation as he pushed it back again.

“I'm having A Week.” Darcy smiled and pushed the sandwich under his nose again.

He pushed it back, frowning at the little chip he was soldering on.

Darcy kept up the little game of lunch ping-pong until he put the little soldering iron down and took the opportunity to steal his work-goggles.

“Eat your lunch and I'll give these back.” She chirped as she walked away, smiling to herself as she saw Tony reach into his drawer to get a new pair of goggles, only to find his juice there instead.

“You little-”

“Avengers team-workout is in an hour, so eat up quick if you wanna work on it before Rhodey tires you out.” Darcy called back before replacing Jane's empty juice box and setting her pee-break timer for 30 minutes. She looked over at Tony and saw him trying to wield without safety goggles, only to be stumped by FRIDAY’s safety-override. Sighing, he bit into his sandwich like it was the last thing he wanted on earth, and she saw the pain on his face when he realised he actually liked it. Stubborn three year old.

She'd be throwing out his crusts later.

She lingered around Bruce's desk long after he'd gotten his tea and curry. Bruce was the best at taking care of himself, so any lingering or badgering during lunch time was unusual. He calmly finished what he was working on and took off his gloves before turning to her.

“Mind if I eat my lunch with you?” Darcy asked, holding up her own sandwich.

“Not at all,” Bruce smiled and gestured to the open chair across his desk. He, unlike Jane and Tony, had encouraged her when she had given them extra desks only for paperwork and eating. Then again he did work with samples that could easily be contaminated and he did know what a science-experiment-gone-wrong could lead to. Jane had also been enthusiastic, but most of her work was writing down her theories on any surface so...

“I thought you were eating with Barnes today. It’s Monday, right?” Bruce started, she could see he was mildly suspicious of her intentions. Also he was apparently another person on her shit-list for not making her attentive to the fact that she was basically dating Bucky Barnes. But she was on a different mission right now, and he was right to be suspicious.

“Oh I am, but we’re meeting later. I am a hobbit anyway. Gotta get my elevenses now and then my lunch and early dinner later. I _just_ finished my 2nd breakfast in my office, so…” 

He smiled a little and picked up his fork.

She sat down at his neat lunch corner and took a few bites of her sandwich, making small talk until he was halfway through his lunch before approaching the subject.

“Hill gave me all the Hulk insurance claims.” She blurted out. Bruce raised his eyebrows in mock surprise and sipped his tea before prodding her along.

“Most of them are bogus, bad photoshop, car-shaped dents, etcetera. But a few of them are not as easy to disprove.” She opened her purse and slipped out the thin file she'd composed the night before.

“These,” she flipped it open and showed him the three claims with red tags, “are legit claims. Claims from Vision's birthday and that one Avenger mission where you broke through some walls and then ruined the barn on the farm next to it. They are all being handled by our legal team and funded by Stark Industries. Since technically they are all his fault.”

Bruce frowned at the last part.

“Honestly they are. He told you to trash the barn because he thought it was a hideout, until Barton pointed out that it looked like it was a fully functioning barn. And I think Veronica did all the damage to the other ones. All I need is your signature here and here.” she showed him.

She quickly moved on as Bruce put his fork down and stared at his lap.

“I'm sorry about this, you should be able to eat your lunch. I can come back another time?”

“No,” he sighed, “it's fine.” He took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. “The last one? With the yellow tags?” He gestured to the thick remaining file as he pulled the red tagged towards him and started signing.

“This is the one I couldn't disprove.” She pulled it out. “It’s either insanely well photoshopped. I even tried hacking into the pictures digitally but it's all scanned pictures from disposable cameras. Or its damages from other huge creatures or natural disasters. Anyway, they are from the time you went AWOL. Now, I have a level 7 clearance here, and information about that is level 9... Hill and Rogers are both level 8 so I think level 9 is just code for ' _only Bruce and maybe Tony..._ '”

Bruce sighed again, confirming her suspicion. She nodded. 

“If you can prove you were any other places than here or that you didn't Hulk out then we can pick these apart. If not then we will pay for the claims and it will be done in the open, we will even give a short statement in our PR releases because unlike SHIELDRA we do stuff in the open now. Be warned though I did see something about the new legislation and General Ross in there.”

Bruce stared at the file, not answering.

“I am sorry for this,” Darcy said, hand hovering over his shoulder before she patted it softly, even squeezing a little, before she gathered the signed files and stood to leave. “I really am sorry…” She deliberated for a second before thinking  _ screw it _ , this was _that_ kind of day. 

“Although I still feel like you should have taken some responsibility for your actions instead of leaving Tony all alone with the blame for Ultron.”

He looked up at her, looking like she'd just slapped him.

“I'm dealing with these,”she continued and nodded towards the files still on his desk “ you get _that_ to me by the end of the week. And if you ever want to talk about guilt for things out of your control, then we have several people who specialize in PTSD and brainwashing/mind control and regaining control. If you want to talk about guilt for something you actually did have a handle on, then we have an excellent team of therapists for that too.”

He looked like he was about to argue back, or maybe scream at her, but she knew he'd never Hulk-out over her comments, so she simply crossed her arms and continued.

“It's been months and everybody's been walking on eggshells since you returned, but Bucky pointed out to me that being friends means we get the privilege of calling out each other's bullshit. I like to think of us as friends, Bruce, but I am also friends with Tony, and emotionally stunted though he is, I know it hurt him when you left.” She spun on her heel and walked back to her office, glanced at her phone, bit her lip and walked back to his desk, laid her palms flat on his files and leaned low so that no cameras would see her mouth and no lab assistants would overhear them.

“And when you are done with your self wallowing and ready to pick yourself up, be a happy person again... well. Betty's been trying to get in touch with you since before I started working the phones here. You should give her a call.”

She was saved from seeing Bruce's miserable face and endless sulking by Maria Hill paging her to her office. 

She gathered all the claims and paperwork before she made her way to the more mission-oriented part of the mansion. She made sure to stop by agent Jameson and leave the general lab paperwork, she was not one for unnecessary exercise and walking the expanse of the mansion once in a day was more than enough. 

Feeling productive and content with how her life was slowly falling into place, piece by piece, task by task and conversation by conversation, she knocked on Hill’s door and braced herself.

She did not expect to have the door opened for her by Steve, looking stoic as ever, barely glancing over her before turning back to Hill. Just like that he was back to early Post-Breakup Steve, like months ago, completely ignoring her existence. Darcy felt the content feeling from moments ago ebb out only to be replaced by a  _ mighty  _ rage.

_ She’d come out for a good time and was honestly feeling so attacked right now.   _ She’d have to text Bucky that after this meeting. He’d love that. He’d use it when they met up for lunch in an hour, and she forced him to try the reheated room-grot she’d saved for him.

“Lewis, great!” Hill said, looking up from her tablet, “have a seat.”

Darcy sat, wondering why Steve was staring daggers into the plant behind Hill. He didn’t blame her for his break up, right?

“How’s the incident reports coming along?” Hill started casually, way too casually. Hill was usually more of a let’s-get-down-to-business kinda gal. 

“All but one sorted. I have an algorithm up and running for the easily disproved ones and Bruce signed these,” she dropped the folder onto Hill’s desk, ”He’s going over the one I can’t disprove from his AWOL vay-kay now.”

Hill nodded and laid her tablet in front of Darcy. “Could you sign here?”

“What is it?” Darcy picked up the tablet and skimmed over the page.

“Barnes has requested being cleared for the field,” Darcy nodded at this, they’d discussed it numerous times at length. “He’s starting with team exercises and training, followed by a few undercovers with Black Widow before he is cleared for solo assignments. He was not happy with the time table and as a compromise he is allowed to do a few low risk recon and surveillance missions alone. We usually send one of our level 4 agents for those, but since SHIELD is pretty much scraps and the workload is colossal for the people we’ve got, nobody’s complained.” 

Steve shifted, apparently somebody _had_ complained, and she was willing to bet he was standing three feet behind her .

“In fact,” Maria continued louder, with a pointed glare to Steve, “they were ecstatic and Barnes is gearing up to leave for a three day assignment as we speak.”

Darcy’s head snapped up. Bucky was leaving? Without saying? After he promised he’d stay? Is this because she was't ready? Does he need a break like Sharon? Maybe-

She looked back to the tablet and cleared her throat before looking back to Hill.

“Alright. He’s still here then?” She asked, already slipping her phone out of her pocket to text him. 

“Yes, he asked me to send you to mission prep after this meeting. I just need your signature first.” Hill tapped the tablet and Steve sighed again. “He asked if you could be his home base contact. You get immediate notification about any med evacs, any SNAFU’s and any extended missions or changed mission objective. You also get access to his files, to medical if he’s submitted and to his personal quarters in his absence. Should there be any misconceptions about his health or mental state then you are to be consulted before making a decision. He gives this responsibility to you because he feels you are one of the two people in the world who knows him best, but also, and I am quoting him directly here,” Hill picked up a post-it and read in a monotone voice; “‘less pig-headed, reckless and better suited for this than Stevie, who is a punk that doesn’t know how to use a parachute and still didn’t even get his driver's license.’ The last bit is unsettling and shall be addressed at the earliest convenience.” Hill shot down any protest Steve might have made with a pre-emptive glare and raised eyebrow. 

Darcy looked down at the tablet, slipped her phone back into her pocket and took the tablet pen out of the sleeve.

She remembered some conversations she’d had with Bucky not too long ago. He’d asked her about insane and stupid scenarios and she’d told him how she would handle them. She really didn’t know what haggling a set fish price had to do with _this_ but she’d had a faint feeling that it was a test of some kind. She guessed this means she’d passed.

“Understand that this is not a common position we put a civilian in, no matter how high level they are. Usually this will be the position for a handler, but seeing as his last handlers were HYDRA and didn’t have his best interest at heart, this was another of our compromises. If you are ready to sign…?” Hill hinted, shuffling around papers to show that she did not have all day. 

Darcy still took a minute to process. A warm feeling spread through her chest. The same feeling she had come to associate with Bucky, with Thor and Jane. With home and her favourite sweater. It was love. It was family. This was Bucky showing her that no matter what she chose, he was not giving her an ultimatum. He  _ loved _ her. She was free to stay his friend for eternity, she was free to do whatever (and whomever) she pleases, and she would still remain a permanent fixture in his life. His _home base contact_.

Home.

She signed without further hesitation, knowing whatever burden accompanied this was worth it. 

Hill then had Steve sign as honorary family, and though Darcy could see his jaw work in agitation, she felt too light to be dragged  down by his sour demeanor. 

Hill scrolled through the documents and kicked them out of her office.

Steve immediately strutted off towards the stairs, and Darcy was tempted to just let him go, but after a 3 second battle with the part of her who wanted to run down the hall to mission prep, she growled, scaring a junior agent who was walking past her, before she ran after him. 

“Steve!” She half shouted, fully aware of the bullpen of spies spying. 

She reached him on the first landing, almost colliding with his back as he suddenly stopped.

“You should have refused!” Steve half shouted back as he turned on her, crossing his arms and scowling at her with all his American might. 

“What?” She was confused. 

“Being his handler is something far above your level and you should have refused, let me take over.”

She narrowed her eyes at him.

“No.” She crossed her arms as well, not making nearly as an impressive figure as him, but she knew she could be just as stubborn. “Did you not listen to anything in that meeting? Steve, you absolute dick! Bucky  _ chose _ me. In case you do not remember, him exercising his freedom of choice is a pretty, fucking, huge deal.”

Steve looked much like Bruce had less than an hour ago, but Darcy was nothing if not a quick study and watching Maria Hill conduct a meeting without Steve muttering a single comment  _ had _ been inspiring.

“Shut up, Steve. This has nothing to do with you or your ability to take care of Bucky! This is not you losing Bucky again! I know the timing is shit, with the little stupid discussion you had Saturday, and Sharon leaving and everything! But Bucky has always been, and will _always_ be your best friend!”

“Why did he chose you for _H_ _ ome base contact? _ ” Steve sneered the words at her. “What can you do if HYDRA takes him or he is triggered or he needs backup?! You gonna tase HYDRA? Are ya gonna hold him down while the Winter Soldier tries to strangle you?! Are you gonna run into open fire and have his back when things go FUBAR?!” He’d gone quieter now, obviously mad, but just in enough control to keep the agents and spies around the corner in mind.

“No, idiot!” Darcy yelled back, because she this had been a really big and emotionally loaded 48 hours and she did not have enough control over her voice to keep it lowered. “I won’t have to because he’s gonna have his team, his partner and his Captain for all that. I’m gonna be the person stuck in mission control looking at the monitor, checking for changes and waiting without being able to do anything about it. I’m going to be the stay-at-home mom while you go out and fix everything!”  She was crying now, again. Big, fat crocodile tears were running down her face and she could feel the splotchy, angry blush work its way up her neck and over her cheeks. 

“The reason why he chose me was because he knows I can be rational enough to use a fucking parachute before jumping out the goddamn airplane. Because he knows I’ll be here for him and because you don’t do well if you’re not actually  _ doing _ something! He knows us, Steve and he loves us, _both_ of us. And I’ll be damned if I let you disrespect his decision.” Her chest was heaving and and she angrily pushed her glasses up on the top of her head as they started fogging a bit on the sides and the tears started gathering on the rim. 

Steve had positively shrunk during her rant, deflated and lowered his head. Good, she thought. He needs to go fix his problems and they start with him. 

She sighed and sloppily wiped her cheeks, gosh all she wanted was to run to mission prep. She wanted to run to mission prep so bad. Just run and throw herself in Bucky’s arms and complain in monosyllabic noises of frustrations. He’d get it. He’d support her, he’d be proud of all she had accomplished in the past few hours. But she needed to deal with this first. 

“I know this is shit timing Steve,” she started, a bit softer this time, waiting until he met her eyes before she continued. “I know this is not the first time someone’s told you that you’re a soldier out of war, but maybe take some of that to heart? You lost everything, but now you’ve got so much, and you don’t even realise it because you are too busy fighting through everything and ignoring your mourning.” She sighed again and tentatively reached for his hand. He stepped back, out of her reach and she rolled her eyes and followed, this time forcing him to accept it. 

“We used to be friends, Steve. We used to  _ date _ . And I would have been fine with you breaking up with me because we weren’t working, because we weren’t. But you didn’t have to completely cut me out of your life like that. It was a dick move and I struggled with the way you made me feel after that for the longest time. So, you know, fuck you.” 

He looked guiltily to the floor, avoiding her gaze. “I had some pretty big self-confidence issues and a mini-identity crisis stemming from before I met you, but I latched onto you because I really liked you. When you dropped me like a hot potato, I had to face, well, myself and I didn’t really like that. But I’ve been working on it. I’m good, I’m fine. I have the support network I need and I have become more comfortable in my own skin. And I am ready to face my abandonment issues.”

She knew she was blabbering on and really could just stop and be done right there, before all the Avengers’ support staff and many agents milling about knew every damn detail about her life. But she was almost done. 

“My point here,” she squeezed his hand and he met her eyes again, “we tried, we failed and that’s all there is to it. Our relationship, I mean. We were like the prototype, but we didn’t work so we broke up and now we got to work on ourselves before we are ready to be part of a committed relationship again. I had my issues and you have yours, and Steve, you are good and you are kind, and you have the right intentions, but you have _issues_. You have ghosts and you have this tendency to clam up and not accept any help from anybody! 

"If you want someone to trust you with their lives and their problems and their heart, then you gotta trust them with yours. And if that means you gotta work through it before you are ready to share, then that is what I suggest you go do. Otherwise you’re gonna end up angry and alone and I know it would kill Bucky so please, don't just do it for yourself. Do it for him.” 

She squeezed his hand again before she let go of it and moved away. “You have a lot of friends Steve. And we are here. We’re alive and we want to help.  _ Let _ us.” 

Steve frowned at his hand for a moment before clearing his throat and smiling a faint and haunted smile at her. 

“Thank you, Darcy.” He said, looking down again. She nodded and was about to turn and run back up and over to mission prep when-

“Don’t you dare break his heart.”

She turned to Steve and her heart damn near broke at the awkward and uncertain way he was holding himself. She wrapped him in a short and tight hug before moving back. 

“Wasn’t planning on it.” She smiled back, nodded once and ran up the stairs. 

Half a minute later she burst through the door to mission prep, “Where is he?” She asked the nearest agent, who pointed to the gear room off to the side where Bucky was alone, packing his recon gear. Apparently nameless-nearest-agent knew she was here for Bucky. Again; how the fuck had she been so blind?!

She ran inside and closed the door behind her.

“Darce?” Bucky smiled, looking up at her. Then, taking in her disheveled hair, the mascara stains under red rimmed eyes and red blotches on her cheeks, his smile dropped and he looked concerned instead.

“Darcy?” He laid down his bag and took a step towards her, but he didn’t get any further before she’d already launched herself at him, one hand slung around his shoulder, gripping the fabric of his shirt and the other in his hair.

“Why are you cryinph-” He stuttered before she dragging his lips down to hers.

He reacted instantly, grabbing her waist and hauling her up to a more comfortable height, helping her wrap her legs around him as he enthusiastically kissed her in return.

She kissed him like it was the only thing keeping her sane, and honestly it was not that far from the truth. Her back hit the wall next to the door she’d just run through and she felt a thrill go through her as memories of his drunken grinding, only days before, flooded her mind. He groaned and his hips made little desperate thrusts into hers, making her shiver and break away from his lips. Forcing herself to take deep breaths as his lips were working over her pulse. 

“A date.” She gasped as he dragged out the last thrust, his erection hitting just right through all the layers of clothing. 

“What?” He asked, his metal hand holding her up and pinning her to the wall as his flesh hand made it’s way up under her shirt, skimming her stomach and ribs, making her shiver.

“Date,” she forced herself to say clearer, and his grinding slowed as he seemed to realise what they were doing and where they were doing it. 

She swallowed heavily and let herself slide down slowly to her legs, savouring the way his hands clenched into fists and he took a steadying breath when she admittedly let her own hands and body linger on his. 

“Not that this isn’t hot as fuck, but I don’t want to rush this.” She straightened his shirt and reached up to wipe the lipstick of the corner of his lips with her thumb. Her own chin and neck must also be the same shade of dark lilac. 

He smirked and kissed the pad of her thumb, “not to complain or anything but this is far from rushed, doll. It’s been months in the making.” He still stepped back and smiled warmly at her though. 

“Yeah, but you promised me swing dancing, and I’m in it for the long haul.” 

“Good, that makes two of us,” he agreed and handed her a new hair tie from the collection on his wrist, kissing her cheek as she set her hair back up. “And If I remember correctly I practically had to beg you.”

She snorted and slapped the hand that was sneaking its way under her shirt again, loving the way his eyes lit up with playful mirth. 

“I want the full Bucky experience. I wanna be wined and dined and end the evening on a high note… or three.” She bent to retrieve his bag and pushed it into his arms. “I can get quite loud once you get me going,” she winked. “See you when you get back.” 

“Now that’s not fair.” She heard him whine as she closed the door behind her and made her way into the hallway, smiling brightly and waving at agent Jameson when he eyed the smudged lipstick on her chin and the wrinkled shirt. 

She made it as far as the elevator at the end of the hall before he caught up with her, pushing her against the wall for a heated, but short, kiss.

He pinched her ass and stepped off, beaming as the doors started closing. She could see all he was feeling projected loud and clear across his face, and though he didn’t say anything and the elevator was about to shut she couldn’t help but whisper; “I love you, too.”

She barely caught the surprise on his face before the elevator shut and descended, and she didn’t even pretend to be surprised herself when the doors opened two floors down and he was waiting for her outside it. 

**_*_ **

**_Og vær så snill kjære, bare si du vil ha meg_ **

**_*_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The End...
> 
> Y'all have no idea how scared I am about your reactions to the Steve/Darcy confrontation... There have been a lot of comments with a lot of suggestions and I have written this scene so many times. 
> 
> Anyway, as always thanks to Meg for betaing and helping me debate the difference between mouthguard and retainer. (though that applied to the last chapter now that I think about it...)
> 
>  
> 
> **also there might be a small epilogue in the very near future**

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you to Megan (megiax on Ao3) for her amazing beta work!!


End file.
